Dreaming the World Away
by Wide-Eyed For Pontmercy
Summary: 1873. Anything can happen. A small French town shrouded in rain and secrets. This is an original mix of Phantom and Twilight and what lies in between. This is Belle Dawier's story, a headstrong singer caught in the middle of the drama.
1. Fourchette

_Dreaming the World Away_

Set in 1873, Bellisima Dawier has recently left her mother to live with her father, a policeman in a small town of northern France. She is a passionate, intelligent girl who has a love for music and living life to the fullest. Bored with the cushy life she starts with her father,Bella tries out for a job in the newly built opera house, and makes it. What she finds there is a world of secrets, danger, and a love that will never be broken.

This story is based upon Phantom of the Opera and Twilight, and with the extravagance of society known in The Luxe books. The initial idea of how I write this is my creation, thought there are probably many crossovers like this. Bellisima Dawier is based upon the roles of Christine Daae and Isabella Swan, though Bellisima herself is of my own creation.

"You mustn't go, Bella! Marcus and I will be very happy with you living with us!" Renee Swan pleaded to me as I impatiently stared toward the horizon. "Mother, I want to go and live with Father!I'll be fine." I carefully lied and smoothed down my navy traveling skirt.

~I have lived with my scattered-brained mother for as long as I can remember. A society girl when young, she had scandalized everyone by marrying a mere policeman at the tender age of seventeen. The marriage had been a folly of youth for my flighty mother, but when I was born, she sobered down for two years and tried to be happy out of society and as a parent. She couldn't last that way, and when I was three,a divorce came. It is not spoken about much, being so scandalous, but I have lived with her since, just visiting my father the occasional summer. My chosen separation is due because of my mother finally remarrying to a traveling artist. She felt I was too young and fragile to be traveling with him all the time, so she has always stayed with me when he goes abroad. It dawned to me after his first trip that this separation hurts her, so I declared that I must get to really know my father before I became an old maid. He did not object to me coming and staying with him, so I packed my many bags and made my way to the train station to begin my new life.~

A loud chugging noise interrupted my mother's latest argument, and I gratefully turned to her to make my goodbyes. "I'll write, I promise! I love you very much, and no, I won't forget that I am a privileged young lady, and yes, I'll keep safe. Say goodbye to Marcus for me." I answered all of Renee's questions before she spoke them, and quickly hugged her while a worker began to haul my bags into the first class car. Tearing myself away, I boarded the train then snagged a window seat and prepared for the long ride.

"Mlle Dawier,are you awake?" A elderly voice woke me, and I quickly sat up and turned. "I am your chaperon, Mme Yew. We have almost reached your destination." The speaker was a gray-haired woman heavy with jewels. I nodded and wondered when she had arrived upon the train. The rest of the ride was spent in silence as I stared out the window and Mme Yew conversed with another well dressed matron. The train chugged in to a station, and it was announced that this was Fourchette, my stop. "Will you need my assistance and will there be someone waiting for you, Mlle Dawier?" Mme Yew asked, oh so helpfully.

"No, everything has been arranged. Thank you, Mme, for your company." I got up and began to walk toward the trains exit. I truthfully had no idea whether Charles( my father) would be waiting for me, but at least then I could get an hansom cab and explore a bit and break the rules.. A loud shout of "Bella!" ceased all plans I had begun to make, and I saw my father amble toward me. He was now the chief policeman of his small town, and an inheritor of his newly deceased mother's small fortune. _Society wouldn't have been so appalled if my mother had married him at the station he is now in_, I thought wryly as he pulled me into a light hug, then guided me around and to his carriage.

" Well, aren't you beautiful. You sure have grown, Bella. Its hard to think that the last time I saw you, you were this tall." He gestured to his waist, which I now towered over, and I grimaced. He smiled as he helped me into the carriage, and we set off to his modest manor. We both silently stared out our windows, and I was glad that Charles didn't feel the need to always be talking. Fourchette was very green, I silently noted as we continued on. The trees were covered in a mossy substance, the ground was a dark forest shade, and even the light filtered in through the dense trees seemed to be a silvery green. We approached the road to his home and I sighed as the carriage was pulled to a stop. " You remember your room, right?"I nodded,and he went on to say, "A maid will help you with your things. I am afraid that I must go back to work, I'm sorry, Bells."

"Its okay, Cha-Father. I will just be unpacking and I'm afraid that I am terribly tired. I'd be horrible company right now." I forced out a delicate yawn then tripped up the manor's steps. This way I could explore the grounds without having to worry about Charles finding me. Once inside the house, I immediately turned to the left and headed up the stairs, a manservant following diligently behind with my bags. I opened my door and saw the same room that I had stayed in as a child. The lacy curtains and creamy furniture were all the same, but a woman's vanity had been added and the child's bed replaced with a sleigh bed. I thanked the man, then went over to the largest bag, the most important bag. I unzipped it, then sighed with relief as I pulled out my flute and violin cases. Next came my sheet music and instrument cleaners, then the bag was empty. Putting the instruments in their place of honor by the window, I heard a gentle knock on the door.

I forced myself to look tired,then called, "Come in." A little maid entered with the intentions of emptying my bags. "Oh, you can go. I think I shall just take a nap, and I am a very light sleeper." I quickly dismissed her and she smiled while backing out the door. Quickly, I emptied the bags, and left the dresses that needed hanging up on one side of my huge bed. I stored some of my treasures on a high shelf and placed my silvery music box on the vanity counter top. Sadly, I caught my reflection in the mirror and then grimaced. My tawny, waist-length curls were pinned up, and they shone in the meager light let through the window. My high cheekbones were flushed with excursion since I had been unpacking and lifting the heavy bags, and my full lips were naturally pink and stood out against my ivory face. My silvery-green eyes looked disappointed, and thats just what I felt. I was beautiful, and anytime I looked in the mirror, I saw my mother's high marriage hopes and my father's sad green eyes. Even worse, when people first see me and hear my extravagant name, they assume that I am a graceful, gentle lady, the product of good breeding and a happy marriage. Once they get to know me ,they see my less then lady-like behavior and graceless walk.. I sighed, and slipped out of my dress and changed into a stolen set of trousers. I stuck my curls under a hat, and tip-toed out of my room, heading for the only place where I wasn't a fine lady.

I ended up tripping down the stairs, but luckily, all the servants were else where. "Uh, sneaking is hard when your as coordinated as a newborn foal", I grumbled to myself. Finally, I was outside and walking toward the stables, my favorite place in Fourchette. I let my self in to the empty barn and crept up to Whimsy's stall. Whimsy was a large and dark dappled gray thoroughbred mare, and my all- time favorite horse. Riding was out of the question right now, and besides, I didn't want to get in trouble my first day here, so I contented myself with petting her and relaxing in her stall, letting the sound of her gentle breathing and sweet breath calm me.

When I left the barn, it was dusk. I hurried back to my room unseen, another miracle, and dosed myself with perfume while changing back into my rumpled traveling skirt before ringing for a maid. "Yes, Mlle Dawier?" the little maid answered immediately. "Will my father be home for dinner?" I asked. She nodded, and I motioned for her to come in. She helped me change into a violet colored dress, then left. I came down for dinner at seven, and saw my father sitting at a large table already set with food. "Bellisima, come and sit with me!" Charles ordered and I dutifully went and sat at his left. We ate, then when finished, he said, "Your mother tells me you love music. There is an opera house here in Fourchette, you know. It was finished just last year! I am sure that will be a place of interest for you." He puffed with pride for his developing small town, and I looked up eagerly and smiled. I had actually been wondering what I would do with all my spare time. At home, there was balls and dreadful society events, but in this quiet little town, I was sure there was none of that. "That is good news." I answered, then listened as he told me about his day at work.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I think I 'll retire for the night." I got up and pecked his forehead, then hurried to the stairs. "Good night!" I heard him call. Once in my room, I headed over to a song book and pulled my violin out. I played a couple songs, then sang some of my scales to keep in shape. I realized Charles would be heading for bed soon ,so I read a bit then drifted of toward an oblivious sleep. When I awoke, I saw the slight maid lighting the fire in my fireplace, so I called out good morning. "Oh, hello and good morning. I hope I didn't wake you!" I shifted under my fine, heavy sheets and smiled encouragingly. "No, I woke of my own accord. I'm sorry, yesterday I didn't introduce myself. My name is Bella Dawier, and I am sixteen years old. What is your name?" She looked shocked, and I continued to smile at her. It was inappropriate of me, but maids usually turned out to be great friends and secret holders., and it wouldn't hurt to have her here to cover for me if I ever got into trouble. "I am Marie Leer and I am fifteen years old." The slight brunette maid finally answered, and my smile was bright as I leaned out of bed. "Can you tell me about Fourchette and my father, please, Marie?" I asked as she poured my glass of morning chocolate. She offered a shy smile and said, "What do you want to know?"

After my first morning, my life settled into a calm and boring pattern. I would rise early and play my instruments and sing till about ten or eleven, then eat and go to the barn and ride Whimsy, usually with the matronly woman my father kept on hand to supervise. I would come back home and sew or read until dinner with Charles, then retire to my room and have the occasional chat with Marie. I sometimes went into town, and would endure the curious stares and greetings from the towns people, while doing the tasks Charles had given me. It seemed that the people of Fourchette were expecting me, and so I talked and met with many a well to do person. After church on Sundays were the quaint visiting calls of the upper class, and while Charles talked to his friends, I was forced to keep company with their flirtatious sons and prissy daughters. My life soon felt useless, and so did I. At home I had been able to provide purpose and means to various things, and here I felt more like a liability and nuisance, only good for shyly smiling at my father's friends' spoiled sons at social gatherings. After two repetitive months, inspiration hit.

"Its quite beautiful there, actually. My sister now works as a seamstress, and my brother as a props maker. It has provided many jobs to the people of Fourchette, thanks to the Cullens ." Marie told me of the Fourchette Opera house. "That is good. Hmm...Cullen, now, that doesn't sound very French." I mused. She had told me about the opera house this morning because of her older sister got a job there. "Thats because it isn't. The Cullens' are from Britain. They came here two years ago and have done many wonderful things for Fourchette since. Dr. Cullen works as the town doctor, and his wife, Esme does many things for charities. Sadly, it still is rumored that Dr. Cullen had the opera house built for the pleasure of his many children as well as for Fourchette, though." She continued while helping me pick out a dress in a sheer peridot color. "He is old, then, for his his children to enjoy opera?" I inquired with a tiny gasp as she began to lace my corset. "Oh no, he is probably in his late twenties or early thirties! He inherited a vast wealth for a relative, and Mrs. Cullen is also wealthy. Supposedly, she cannot have children, so they adopted five youthes from different families as they traveled. They are all very talented and...attractive." I took this knowledge in, but it felt as if Marie were leaving something out. "What are you not telling me, Mar-Mar?" I then questioned, and used her nickname to coax it out. "Well...there is really nothing technically wrong with it, but....some of their children are...together..." I frowned and wondered what she meant, then understanding dawned and I blushed. "Oh.." During this awkward silence while Marie fixed my hair, my brilliant idea suddenly occurred to me. It was what could finally end my boredom and consent presence around the house. "Marie, I've a wonderful idea! Does the opera house take in new singers or ballet girls now?" I quickly pressed. Marie seemed slightly dazed by my sudden topic switch, but she answered, "I should think so. Why?" My huge smile was my only answer, and I called out a goodbye over my shoulder as I ran in a most unladylike way. I rushed out the house before my constant chaperon could argue and into the barn, where I demanded a carriage to be readied immediately. I knew the high from my plan would cease soon as I thought practically, so that was even more reason to be on my way to the opera house.

I ordered the driver to speed to the Fourchette Opera House. He obliged me, and the town soon flashed by and had disappeared when he finally slowed and stopped in front of a grand looking gray building. I thanked the driver then sighed appreciatively as I mounted the huge steps slowly, and smoothed out my light, shimmery green skirt in sudden self-consciousness. I pulled a heavy door open and gasped in delight when I saw the opera house's interior. It was all grand, and gold with statues and marble, and I felt awed. My staring was interrupted when a small blond girl with a beautiful figure asked in surprise, "Mlle Dawier? What brings you to the Opera? Nothing is being preformed till the weekend!" I smirked to myself when I realized she thought me to be a simple en, then I noticed she said my name, and I had never seen her before in my life. "Yes, I know performances aren't till till the weekend, I have come seeking a position in the chorus, Mlle..." She stared at me in amazement, then quickly gushed, "There are some openings, but oh! When I went to the sunny city for a vacation, your name was always in the society pages in the papers, Mlle Bellisima! I cannot believe that I am talking to a you right now! Oh, yes, my name is Meg Giry. I am a dancer here, and my mother is the ballet mistress." Her gushing seemed to calm down, and I was grateful. "Can I audition for a place, then, what do I do?" My brilliant idea of being part of the opera's cast seemed silly now that I was actually here, and having no idea what I was doing. But I knew now that I wanted it badly.

"Oh, you'll do fine! With your looks and name, you'll make it in even if you sing like a frog!" Meg chattered encouragingly to me. I was standing on the side of the stage, waiting for to audition for a part in the opera's chorus. Everything seemed to be happening so fast, one minute I was in the foyer meeting Meg, then suddenly I was handed a piece pf music and waiting for my turn to try out. "Thank you, I think? Its just that I have never sang in front of so many people before..." I said pathetically. The opera was bustling with dancers and singers practicing, costumes being made, props being set up and the sound of tons of different instruments tuning. In truth, I loved it, but wasn't sure if this heaven had room for me. "Okay, then let me distract you. Look to your far left, do you see that man and girl? Thats Dr. Cullen and his daughter, Alice. Alice is one of the lead dancers here, and Dr. Cullen was the one who had the opera house built. Isn't he handsome?" Meg sighed dreamily. I turned and saw a breathtakingly beautiful girl gracefully turn circles whilst on point. Her black hair was short and straight, which was completely on of style, but it just seemed to accentuate her perfect ivory skin and delicate features. On the side of her was an extremely handsome man, like Meg had said. He also had ivory skin, and his hair was a shiny golden blond that complemented his unusual golden eyes and god-like features. "My god."I breathed in astonishment at their perfect beauty. Meg just sighed, then I heard my name being called. I walked onto center stage, very close to the edge so I would be out of the way of the rehearsals. I saw a woman who looked like Meg, but aged by about 20 years, a short fussy-looking man and Dr. Cullen and Alice (to my surprise) seated in the first row . "Ah, Mlle Dawier. We didn't know that you had an interest in music, but still we will be very proud to have such a distinguished name at the Fourchette Opera House." the fussy man spoke, and gentle piano music began to play close enough for me to hear over the roar of the busy theater.

Breath! I reminded myself as I began my little piece. It was a soprano's leading aria, but the try-out part was just the simple beginning._ "Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye.." _ To my horror, I found that I was singing quiet and shakily. No one but the Cullens, Mme Giry and the fussy man were even watching me, I tried to comfort myself. I wanted nothing more then to be a part of this opera house and the way I was singing wasn't fit for even a corner on the street. _"When you find, that once again you long to let your heart again be free.."_ My try-out piece was practically done, and I felt near tears at my mediocre performance. Then I saw him.

His bronze hair shone and his ivory skin was bathed in gold from the huge chandelier's rosy light. His features seemed to be carved from stone and looked as if they belonged to the mythed Greek gods. The way he carried his tall body was elegant and almost like a predator, and my heart raced as I saw him take a seat next to Alice. Still, he had not seen me on the stage. I cannot say why, but I wanted him to stare at me like so many other young men had, I felt as if I needed him to. My try-out piece was supposed to end when I mumbled, _"...thought for me" _But I didn't stop. All the sudden it seemed as I could finally breathe again, could finally sing like I have before, so I continued with the lead's part confidently. _"We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea, but if you could still re-member , stop and think of me.." _ My voice was now loud enough to be heard over the din of the opera house, and some stopped to stare at me. It didn't matter now, though, because He was watching me with a curious face. "_Think of all the things we've shared and seen, don't think about the things which might have been.."_ I continued to sing, and no one had stopped me for continuing on with the aria, so that must be a good sign, I hoped. I dared another look at the bronze-haired boy, and saw that he was staring at me with a almost hungry look. _"Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned.. .Imagine me, trying so hard to put you from my mind!...Recall those days, look back on all those times, think of the things we'll never do..there will never be a day when I won't think of you!" _The song was nearly over, and I took advantage of the break for music to prepare myself for the end, which seemed quite challenging. Right before I resumed singing, I glanced at him to see a crooked and achingly beautiful smile on his face as he watched me. I caught my breath and sang, _"We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea, but please promise me that sometimes, you will think of..."_ My voice began to soar up and down as I did the vocalizing to reach the final, "._ ..me!"_

Shocking and thunderous applause erupted as I tripped down the stage, and Dr. Cullen himself addressed me for the first time. " That was quite impressive, Mlle Bellisima! The Fourchette Opera House certainly has a place for you! You should talk to my son Edward, he wrote the piece and has been searching for a soprano like you to sing it for some time." He turned to the beautiful boy and pulled him closer to us. I almost gasped when I saw him close up, he so gorgeous. "Hello" I managed to gasp. He reached over to kiss my hand, as custom, but I tripped a little on my way over to him, and my dress pushed me off balance. My loose hair whirled around my face as I caught my step, and suddenly the boy who was named Edward sharply turned. He looked at me with a suddenly loathsome expression, as if disgusted, the stalked away before I could even blink.


	2. Supposedly an Open Book

Here is Chapter two! Sorry for its short length. For those who actually read this story, Bellisima Dawier is sorta my character, so she'll react differently then Bella swan would.

"You should have seen the opera house! It was magnificent! The most perfect afternoon of my life, except for that bastard, Edward." My dreamy voice slowly turned angry as I recalled the snub the Cullen boy had given me. Marie looked shocked at my language, and continued trying to braid my abundant hair. "What did he do, then, to make you angry?" I sighed and played with the lacy bell sleeves of my dressing gown. It was dark outside, the flickering candles on my nightstand and dresser where the only light in the room, so she couldn't see my indignant blush. "He was all set up to meet me, then he abruptly turned and ran out of the opera,giving me a huge glare. It was incredibly rude!" Marie smiled a little, then said, "Most of the Cullen's are strange. Anyway, many girls have tried to make a move on that Edward, but he has always turned them away. Usually, he is just more polite about it!"

"I wasn't making a move..still...Oh well, I guess I should just be glad the opera accepted me, and that Charles doesn't mind. Being a chorus girl isn't the usual past-time for a socialite's daughter." We smiled at each other as I headed to my bed, and she blew out the candles. Still, that night, I lounged awake in bed for many hours, thinking of Edward. Why had he given me those wondrous looks, just to glare at me and walk away when we where about to be introduced?

I woke early with renewed purpose, and Marie helped dress me in a simple purple gown that I could move freely in. I skipped breakfast and gave a quick visit to Whimsy before demanding a carriage and heading for the opera house. It was bustling with activity by the time I got there, though it was only around 8 in the morning.

"Good morning Bellisima! Are you excited to be working here now! I can just tell we are going to be great friends!" Little Meg Giry squealed when she saw me walking toward the stage. "I am very excited. What am I supposed to do now?" She led me to her mother,who was the ballet mistress.

Mme Giry was elegant and slender, and appraised me with wise gray eyes. I felt myself straighten under her stare, then I raised my eyes to meet her. "You are very pretty, Mlle Dawier. Your voice is good as well. I can tell that you are clumsy, though, and that could prove to be a problem." I blushed when she said that. I had been hoping no one would realize that I can barely walk on my own,let alone dance. I can kiss my job goodbye, I thought glumly, for what use is a chorus girl when she's not graceful? "I would need to hear you sing again, but for the next opera we are doing, I believe you will have a singing part." I gasped and looked at Meg in disbelief, and she grinned. "Its an opera written by our very own M. Cullen, and your voice would do quite well for Simone." She nodded to me, then headed off.

"You do have the best voice in the opera house, Bella." Meg encouraged, but I just shook my head. "What about the leading soprano?" She stared at me curiously, then realization hit. "I forgot that you haven't been here long. The leading soprano is Rosalie Hale, she is M. Cullen's daughter. Her voice is decent, but she is so beautiful that you forget what you are thinking about when you see her. His other daughter is Alice, she is the leading ballerina, and she puts even the most graceful of us to shame. Edward writes operas and helps with the orchestra, and the other two boys,Jasper and Emmet,occasionally drop in to help with heavy props or see their girls preform." My mouth popped open at all this, but it was to be expected. Hadn't Marie told me that M. Cullen had the opera house built for his children's amusement?

"Look, theres Rosalie now!" Meg whispered and pointed to the door of the theater. The most beautiful girl I've ever seen strode through the isles, her golden curls billowing behind her. The skin of her face was a flawless porcelain, and contrasted with her golden eyes, which were framed by heavy golden lashes. Her figure was perfect, and I immediately felt insecure about my own curves and curls ."See what I mean?" Meg continued to whisper, sounding smug. I probably still looked stunned from seeing her."She could sing like a frog, and still be the leading lady." I replied as the lesser but gorgeous,black-haired Cullen girl skipped in behind the statuesque blond. "The Cullen's are all slightly strange, but definitely the best looking people in town." my little friend said, staring distractedly at M. Cullen, who looked specially golden today. "Where are the their boys at?" I murmured, having noticed Edward's absence from the Cullen's grand entrance.

"Well, Emmet and Jasper usually don't come here but for pleasing their father.. and Edward, I'm not sure. They are an outdoorsy family, perhaps they are enjoying the day." She still watched the handsome Dr. Cullen as he handed out sheet music to the orchestra composer, M. Reyer. "Dr. Cullen built the opera house AND he is the town doctor! Isn't that splendid and amazing!" I smiled at her gushing voice, then watched with interest as he mounted the stage and spoke, "Here is the long awaited new opera! It is called La Mort de Lumière and is going to involve lots of hard work and effort to succeed. There are three main parts. They are Jacques, who will be played be Jean Lefarvre, our leading tenor, Amélie, who will be played by my talented daughter, Rosalie,and a smaller part of Simone, who will be played by our newly discovered singer, Mlle Dawier. Some large props will be need to be constructed, as well as the dancers learning new complex steps, so get to work!" His words were softened by a smile, and I was handed a thick stack of sheets with "Simone" written in the corners.

My week flew by, practically perfect. I went to the opera house everyday, and worked on my few dance scenes and songs. My character was the most interesting in the opera! Or so I think, anyways. Simone was the beautiful and royal Amelie's close friend, and a constant shadow to her. Simone was quietly sad for secret reasons, and her beauty was shadowed by Amelie's. Her parts in the songs are sweet, sad melodies that blend and sweep throughout Amelie's simplier, longer parts.

The overall plot was about the forbidden love of Amelie and Jacques and set during the beginning of the French revolution. In the beginning of the opera, there are extravagant balls and songs, and the audience sees Amelie sneak off to visit a secret person during crowded scenes. They learn that she is seeing her lover, a stable boy named Jacques. The revolution comes closer, and many nobles flee France, but Amelie and Simone's family decide to stay. Simone's family is killed by a hungry and furious mob before her eyes, and it scares Amelie's family into leaving. She stays,though and the three main characters live in fear of the future. Another mob sweeps through town, and this time they kill Simone's noblemen lover, while he is trying to defend her. The mob moves on to another part of town while Simone lays over his dying body. Amelie is torn between leaving with her stable boy to a new future, or staying with her heart-broken friend. It is in this one scene that Simone steps up from being a forgotten shadow, and to a courageous woman. She sings the most achingly wistful, beautiful words of, _"Le bonheur m'a laissé pour toujours, ami aimé. Allez maintenant, j'ai atteint mon extrémité, et c'est votre chance d'être finalement avec votre amoureux! Ne regardez pas en arrière."_ Amelie sees the mob coming back again to finish the job, and leaves her friend and doesn't look back. The ending is happy in a twisted way, with Amelie going to London and getting married to Jacques without anyone knowing of her previous life.

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Besides memorizing my songs, trying to dance in my few scenes and dissecting the opera, I met and befriended new people at the opera house. My closest friends there is Meg still. She introduced me to a cute, baby-face blond named Michel, who apparently had had a crush on me from the distance. He always helped me when I fell (which was often, dancing is hard!) and carried things for me. I found his attention flattering,but somewhat annoying after awhile.

The only reason my week was not perfect was due to the absence of a bronze-haired boy in the opera house. I repeatedly told myself I didn't fancy him when I found myself searching for him in the mornings. Why, the only reason I needed his presence was for help understanding a rather difficult piece Simone sang. (well, and for giving him a piece of my mind...)Though Simone was only the third main character, her parts where the hardest. Her songs are smooth and light, so a section of only staccato notes had thrown me for a loop. In fact, I was sure they were a mistake, so on the Monday of the next week, I waltzed into the Opera and demanded help in understanding.

The director, M. Reyer was distracted as he muttered, " Go and see the opera's composer, Bella. The whole brass section is having a argument, so I am quite busy now!" I nodded, then the meaning of his words sank in. Edward was back. I looked around, and didn't see him anywhere.

"Mlle Bella. I am afraid we where never properly introduced. I am Edward Cullen." I nearly gasped as he materialized in front of me, and he reached down to kiss my white hand. I made myself stand to my full 5'7'' frame, and said, "Yes, that is true. You walked away as we where about to 'be introduced.' " I said sarcastically, trying to keep my breathing steady. "I am afraid I don't know what you are talking about. Surly, if I would have been given the chance to meet such a beautiful lady, I would have taken it immediately!" He looked confused and gorgeous. Many boys had given similar speeches to me before, but some reason I didn't believe him at all. Before I could stop myself, I snorted. The most unladylike sound I could make. And my snort caused him to smirk, which sort of infuriated me.

"Edward Cullen, that is a load of what we French call merde de taureau! ...I just came over here because I needed assistance in a difficult song." I now stared into his eyes, which where now a liquid gold color. Odd... He stopped that fake smile, and looked at me with an expression I couldn't read. "Thank you. I did walk away when we where about to meet, and I appreciate your bluntness. What song did you need help with?" I was shocked. More then shocked, I felt my full lips pop open, and my eyes grow huge. Slowly, I pointed out the trying piece, and he took it from me, and handed it back before I closed my mouth. Edward showed it to me, and the staccato notes were gone, replaced with slurs, which fit much better. "I could've sworn this was different. I find that I do not need you help after all, M. Cullen." I was being formal with him now, due to my embarrassment at my rude behavior,and it felt awkward. I turned to leave, and he gently reached out and stopped me. His hands were stone hard and cold.

"Wait, Mlle Bella, surely you can talk a bit longer?" He stared at me with an oddly concentrated look on his perfect face. I looked at him curiously, then asked, "What would you like to talk about, M. Cullen?" Truthfully, I did not want to leave him. "Well, for starters, you can call me Edward...Why did you come to Fourchette?" I glanced at him in surprise. No one had ever asked me that before, they just assumed that Renee wanted time with her new husband, and that I needed time with my father before I was an old married woman. I paused and avoided the question by saying, "You called me Mlle Bella, not Bellisima. How did you know I preferred..." He gave me a strange look, then stated, "Practically everyone in Fourchette knows you prefer Bella to your given name, and its a small town. And, you never answered my question." I blushed and realized that besides bing rude, I was now acting like an idiot. "Its...complicated."

"I can keep up." He gestured at the piano bench we where near, and I hesitantly sat down next to him. His golden eyes looked pained, and he slipped further down the bench, and away form me. I scowled to myself and said, "My mother remarried and so I came here." He seemed amused while saying, "That doesn't seem so complicated. Did she want time with him alone,then?" I twisted a dark, tawny curl around my finger, and said, "No! Its not like that at all. She wanted me to stay, actually. I sent myself." I hoped he would leave it at that. But he didn't. "Then why did you come here? Not that its a bad thing, your voice is perfect for my operas." I flushed at the complement, then sighed and continued my tale. "He is a traveling artist, and she thought I was much to delicate to always travel along. So she stayed home with me, but could tell it hurt her to be away from him for long. So I sent myself, and anyways, Charles and I should be with each other before I am old and married." I tried to sound factual, but it was a weak effort. I missed Renee and the warm,sunny coast that used to be my home. "You exiled yourself. Hmmm. Do you miss your mother terribly?" He had noticed my sorrow, even as I had tried to hide it.

"Yes, I do. Renee has her husband to take care of her now, but it was sort of hard being away for the first week. The longest I've been in Fourchette before was a month during the summer, and it has been weird trying to get used to the wet weather and even being away form my mother, as childish as it sounds." I said quietly, then my words sank in. I had been confiding to a stranger, a man that I had been completely rude to, at that. "Oh my! I am so sorry about my behavior, being so rude, then telling my life story! You must think me to be the dullest jewel in the jewelry box! " I babbled while hopping up from the bench. Of course, my foot caught on the back of my dress and I tripped a little, completing the imbecile look.

"No, I want...I want to know you. Don't feel embarrassed, it was nice. To have you talk with me." Again, his reaction to my blabbering shocked me, and I felt myself back away toward the stage. I felt my breathing quicken as I looked up and meet his earnest golden eyes, so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Your eyes change colors!" I had noticed that long ago, but it got the subject off me. "Yes, they do. You are the first person whose noticed that...They've done it since I was a...child." Edward suddenly seemed uncomfortable while he sacked sheets of music on his piano. The sight reminded me that he was the composer, and probably needed to do something important for the opera.

"Oh, I've kept you long enough. By the way, you know me now. My mother says I'm simple to understand, as easy to read as a open book!" I referred to his earlier comment about wanting to know me while I waved goodbye ad slowly walked away, so I wouldn't trip again. "I wouldn't say that. I find you very hard to read." I looked him over my shoulder as he said that, but Edward was already staring at his piano and tapping out a sweet set of notes, seemingly lost to the world.


	3. Letters

"Bella! I've a letter from your mother for you. She sent me one as well. We need to talk." Charles, my father, glanced up at me and from the look in his brown eyes, I knew that I wouldn't be liking what we had to talk about. "Can we go for a ride whilst talking?" I asked playfully, but really seriously, because being on Whimsy would lessen the blow of what was to come. "Sure." He clopped down the stairs and out to the barn without a second glance. My informal,understanding, sometimes uneducated father. I quickly ran to my room and changed from my rehearsal dress and into my comfortable riding clothes, navy layered bloomers and a thick, black top, for it was already cold in Fourchette, while thinking about the day's great rehearsal. Edward was talking to me consistently now, and Meg had figured out how to make me appear more graceful from a distance.

He was already in the barn, his plain brown gelding saddled. I ran to Whimsy's stall and quickly brushed her down, picked her hooves and pulled on her saddle pad. I hadn't noticed that my father had been watching over the opened top half of the door. Charles was frowning. "What is wrong, Charl-Father?" He just humphed and said, "I'll be waiting outside." I shook my head and finished tacking my mare up. A stable boy came and offered his assistance in mounting, but I shook my head and smiled. I gracelessly leaped onto my large beast and shifted around till I was comfortable. I gently squeezed her dappled sides, and we left the warm barn and entered the gray, wet air of Fourchette.

Charles saw me leave the barn, and he headed out and onto the trail into the woods that started near our house. I followed and we rode for a few minutes in silence. "Do you want the bad news, or the worst news first?" He finally said, and I nearly fell out of my polished leather saddle in shock. He wasn't a talkative man, but Charlie was always optimistic, in his own way. "The bad news, I guess." I stammered, for the first time actually worrying about the news. Was my mom and her husband okay? Were my sweet grandparents alive and healthy?

"Your mother worries that you are aren't getting the training and...uh...information on what it is to be a proper lady and future wife. She would like me to get a chaperon- lady instruct you so you are properly informed." He looked away awkwardly, and coughed. I, meanwhile, stared into the bleak woods surrounding us, and thought about the dreaded lady lessons. I knew I could use some work, but this? It must be her new husband's influence on her. She was easy going and loved to please people. "I've taken care of it all. I know how important the opera is to you, and that they rely on you as well, so I hired Mrs. Delacrux to be your instructor. You have lessons on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday, and must leave the opera house at 1:00, as the lessons start at 2:30. I'm sorry, Bells. Your mother wanted the lessons four days a week, so I tried to compromise. Please don't be sad!" He seemed incredibly nervous. I knew I had to just suck it up, no matter how terrible, or he'd loathe himself for the days to come.

"Father, its fine. I do need instruction on how to be more graceful... I'm sure I can manage for three days a week......What was the other news?" He looked away again, and his nervousness seemed to dissolve into sadness. His horse had taken advantage of our conversation, and slowed to a barely moving walk. Whimsy on the other hand, was chopping on her bit and prancing in place and basically telling me to get a move on. I loosened the reins to appease her and she settled down for a few moments, though I knew it wouldn't last.

"Its your grandfather." He said at last. My grandparents are unbelievably sweet and kind. My favorite of them all is Grandfather Swan, who always tells the best stories and encourages my music. He always says that if you have a passion, you should pursue it no matter what. "Which one?" I stammered. Grandpa Dawier always had bad health. Grandfather Swan, however, is healthy and fit and rides his horses every day.

"Your Grandfather Swan. He was riding his newest horse, an untrained stallion. The horse...proved to be too much work for him, and he was thrown into the fence. He broke his neck." Then there was complete silence. I shook my head in disbelief. He was strong and had the best horse sense I'd ever seen. "No, not him. Not him..." I whispered. "Bella. He died two weeks ago." My father sounded incredibly sorry, but it didn't matter. I spurred Whimsy, and she took off down the trail, and we ran farther and farther away from my father. I don't know how long we flew, but after a while, Whimsy started to slow, then stop. And she is a trained, fit Thoroughbred. I still couldn't believe he was dead. "Following your passion killed you!" I shouted to no one, and it started to rain. It is always raining in Fourchette. I just closed my eyes and turned my face to the sky, letting it wash away the tears that seeped out from under my eyelids. I just stayed there till the subtle, late afternoon light faded to nothing, and it was dark. Whimsy didn't even move the whole time. She understood. I turned her back to the trail when my whole body was numb and soaked from the never ending precipitation. We made it back to the stable, and I just handed my mare to a stable boy instead of grooming her myself, like I have always done before.

I walked into the house and wearily went straight up to my bedroom. The candles were already lite, and Marie was fluffing out my pillows. She saw my wet appearance and dead face, and opened her mouth, but I just shook my head, and she thankfully left me. I changed into a black nightgown, and turned to my dresser to let down my hair. There was an envelope on the large counter top, addressed simply to, "_Bella_" in my mother's scrawled and tiny font. My letter. I took the pins out that hurt the most and sat down and read. Sh asked how I was doing,then preceded to tell of every meal, song and conversation she had after I left. She was worried that I hadn't written her. I stopped reading guiltily, and tugged on a curl, then continued on. She didn't mention my grandfather's death once in the light-hearted letter, and only put in once how she was concerned about my education and manners twice. I guess she put all the important stuff into my dad's letter. Figures. I pushed the letter down unto the table once I finished and threw a couple of pillows at the wall and muffled a couple of my screams. I'm frustrated with how my mother thinks that I'm so incompetent. And I'm depressed about my Grandfather's death. I haven't seen him in two years, and I was supposed to stay with him this summer. I stared out the window and into the bleak rain for awhile, then I went over to my violin case. Music is always the best medicine.

I thought about a story my Grandpapa used to tell me back when I was really little. It was a song legend, and I can still hear his rusty old voice croon out the tune to me. I played a little intro to it that I composed a few years ago, then sing the comforting words, _"Legends tell of an angel, many dream for him to appear, but know that when theres a voice like yours singing, he'll be there! Even now, in this room,He sings so softly, somewhere inside hiding! Trust me, little love, he's always with you, he your unseen genius!"_ I ceased singing and played on my violin, then continued with the reply I always sang as a little girl. "_Angel of music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory! Angel of music, hide no longer, secret and great Angel!"_ I broke of, laughing a little at a memory of myself at six. Grandfather had just sang the legend of the Angel of Music, and I had sang too, and become way too frustrated when he never appeared. I put my violin away and went back to my vanity. Picking up the letter, I sat down and reread it, so that I could reply. Nothing came to me, so I resolved to do it the next day When I set the heavy paper down again, I heard a little tinkling sound and dumped the content of the envelope unto the counter. A slim gold bracelet fell out, with two charms on it, a music staff and a horse shoe. The little tag read, "Bells : hope you like it! Your Grandpa got the horse charm, and I got the music one." I ran my fingers over the smooth gold and got in bed, not even washing my face or brushing my teeth. Suddenly, I was just too exhausted to care.

When I awoke in the morning, everything seemed normal. In fact, my episode from the previous night was not even mentioned once. I was glad. Charles didn't say anything about the new bracelet when we ate breakfast, and I soon just left and went to the opera house a bit earlier than usual. Meg choose to ignore my swollen eyes and wild curly hair, and I liked her a bit more for it. We went through rehearsals like usual and I did my parts surprisingly well, given my angst from the previous night. Well enough that Edward said, "Beautiful,"after I finished my part in the second to last song. He walked over to me with the grace of a jaguar and said, " Just today, you've added lots of depth to that song! I'm surprised and delighted with the progress you've made over these last few weeks, Mlle Bella. Think of what you could do with the right teacher..." He then he actually looked at my face, looked away, and seemed to be having a debate with himself. Finally, in his perfect voice, whispered, "Rough night?" That was the last thing I was expecting. Our conversations usually were few and far in between, and always about his operas. I pondered to myself about whether I should answer. Usually, when I had occasionally found boys attractive, I would flirt and seem invisible. Should I tell him that I did, in fact, have a horribly rough night?

I decided that honesty was the best policy, but that I would only tell what he asked. "Yes, it was quite rough." I finally stuttered, and leaned over to get my lunch, as it was my break time. He nodded as if to say, 'go on.."so I did, and said,"I received a letter to from my mother." Then I inwardly groaned. The only time I had talked to him that wasn't about music had been about my mother. "Is she well?" He asked coolly, taking out an apple and polishing it with his white hands. Really, many a girl would kill for his unblemished alabaster complexion. I guess he was taking his lunch with me. "Yes, she's fine. Its just that, theres some complications with, my ,...uh, education, and..." I broke off, feeling the threat of unexpected, obnoxious tears to spill out. "And..." Edward continued, and I realized that he wanted an answer. "My grandfather died." I said at last, and there was a silence. He looked up from the shining apple, and offered it to me. I shouldn't have, but I took it and smiled weakly. "I'm sorry. Where you close?" I nodded while taking a bit from the sweet fruit and managed not to let juice run down unto my dress. Apples are actually my favorite food. I noticed that while I scarfed, he ate nothing. "Are you not hungry?" I asked after eating his apple. Edward shook his head, then smiled as he watched me eat even more of the food I had packed. "Have you a healthy appetite?" He smirked. I gasped and glanced away so I could catch my breath, and coyly said, "Well, some girls actually eat enough to be full everyday." and as an after thought, "I'm 5'7'', so I have an excuse, anyway." He smiled that amazing grin again, while saying, "Well, I'm 6'2'', and I don't eat much, so do I not have an excuse?" Just after he said that, Meg came rushing over, with the group of people I normally eat with in tow.

"Bella!" She squealed, then saw Edward and smiled flirtatiously, whispering a "Hey, Edward." He just nodded in response, then said, "Have a nice afternoon, ladies." Meg giggled again, and nudged the girls surrounding her, but I followed him a little so that I was out of their giggly earshot. "Are you not going to be here after lunch?" I asked, a little disappointed. Okay, really disappointed. He shook his head, so the tousled bronze hair waved against his forehead. "I think I'll take a walk. I'm not needed, and it is actually not raining, so why not?" My eyes popped. "Your just going to leave?" He smirked and said, "Yes. I am. Your friends are looking for you again. Good luck with your aria, Bella." Then he was down the stairs and out the huge doors, with me staring behind.


	4. Storm

***little detail, I know that most lady's maids of the 1800's lived at their employer's house, but Marie lives super close to Bella's manor, so she goes home to her family every night***

The day was long, and when I got home, I went immediately upstairs and fell upon my bed. I was exhausted, but also felt happy, it was the kind of feeling I normally got when I had a great long gallop on Whimsy. "Do you want anything?" Marie asked sweetly, tucking the boots I had kicked off into the corner of my room. "No, thank you." I rolled unto my stomach and propped myself with my elbows so I could see her. "Why the long face, Marie?" Her little face was sorrowful, and her blue eyes looked to be filled with unshed tears. I pushed myself up, holding back my uncomfortable groan as I realized we would be having an emotional talk. I patted my bed and she sat down next to me, sniffling. "What is the matter, Mar-Mar?" I realize that most would find it completely scandalous that my maid is my best friend, but she is, and I felt like its my duty to ask.

"There is a boy." I say knowingly but not unsympathetically and offer her a handkerchief after she nodded. "He works at the opera house, a props designer. He is friends with my older brother and eats dinner at my house every so often." She accepted the handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. "He never even looks at me! Benjamen is so wonderful, but he doesn't even know I exist!" Her pained voice chocked on tears, and I looked at her plain face sadly. "That couldn't be true! You're so funny and lively!" She shook her head and I gave her a hug. Though Marie is not stunning, once you spend time with her, her prettiness becomes evident; like her long eyelashes and white hands and straight nose. And she is tall, but has very little features, and so appears young and sweet. "I should get back to work. It does no good to think of his black hair or adorable spectacles." She sniffled. "Just be yourself next time Benjamen comes over, and I'm sure you'll amaze him" She smiled weakly and grabbed my muddy boots as she left my room. At that moment, I vowed that I would find the boy tomorrow at the opera and tell him all about my wonderful little friend.

"Bella, I hope you haven't forgotten about the, ummm, 'lady lessons' that you have today." My dad stuttered as I prepared to head out to my carriage the next morning. "How could I forget?" I laughed nervously, and accepted his hand to help me up. "Okay, well, Mme Delacrux shall be here at 2:30 on the dot, so please be be on time. She has been writing your mother, and I really would like for her to get a good report." He kissed my cheek through the little open window, then signaled for the driver to steer the carriage out to the opera house.

When I reached the magnificent building, there was a crowd of people standing outside in the rain. I spotted Meg and hopped down and waved the driver to go. "Meg, what is going on?" I asked, while I pulled my soft red-pink cloak tighter around my shoulders. She shrugged and continued to monitor the action. We were joined by a gaggle of her dancer friends and I rolled my eyes as they loudly gossiped and giggled. The loudest was one of my least favorite people, Lorraine. She has silvery blond hair that is as like silk, and she always wears it loose and tosses her head and giggles as if everything is too funny. "I hear that Monsieur Cullen is leaving!" Lorraine shouted and did another triumphant head toss. "Really." I muttered and pulled the hood over my big hair. Rain just makes my curls go crazy, so living in dreary, always raining Fourchette is a dream come true for me. Not.

Lorraine looked over after I sarcastically answered her, then widened her already wide blue eyes. "Yes, Edward Cullen himself told me!" She smiled viscously then narrowed her eyes at my dubious expression. "What, you think he talks only to you?" I shook my head in disbelief. Mt time at the opera house had revealed that Edward wasn't really a big fan of loud, gossiping ballerina girls, but why should that stop him from talking to them? "Ah, so how long did you have to watch me to know that Edward talks to me?" I ask like I'm incredibly bored.

Meg seemed oblivious to our tissy and shushed us, shrilling excitedly ," Look, there he is!" I peered over and saw the golden M. Cullen standing with another man. Well, boy really. "Oh, who is he?"Lorraine's ever-roving eyes landed on the boy and she smiled like a hunter does after finding his prey. The boy is quite handsome, with long, shiny black hair and big hazel eyes and clear white skin. He looks incredibly familiar, in fact. Then M. Cullen walked to the top of the stairs and the boy followed, grinning flirtatiously at the dancers, who of course, smile back even more so. "I have had many wonderful times at this opera house ,but I'm afraid that my true calling is elsewhere. In the medical field, to be exact. Being the town doctor is no little task, and I am going to be returning to my real duties full time. Since I won't be here, I've decided to sell the opera house to the most deserving of buyers, who will be here momentarily. In the meantime, give a warm welcome to the new patron, Jacques De Noir." The boy stepped forward and waved to the small crowd quite charismatically. I really feel like I know him from somewhere, but yet no memory emerges. He made a small speech about how he is glad,blah blah, then beelined straight into his carriage, after a wave to his admirers. He had breezed right by me, and suddenly, I remembered him. My grandfather had trained his parent's horses some years ago, and so we had played together as children. We would go for rides on our ponies, and tell wonderful stories to one another. Once upon a time, that boy had been my favorite person. He had treated me like an equal, not a silly girl who was only good for giggling and flirts.

"And here are the new managers of the Fourchette Opera, Monsieur Firmin and Andre." M. Cullen beamed at the new additions and nudged two men forward. I hadn't even noticed come in behind the boy, and I guess no one else had either. They made a similar speech, while the other performers whispered, "They must be rich!" Then, after all the excitement, we were herded in from the misty rain and into the opera house. I slowly walked into my usual spot before rehearsals began, and smiled gratefully at my feet. I hadn't tripped while walking up the many stairs that led to the main theater.

I realized I was one of the first ones to go backstage as I looked up and saw only a stagehand and a seamstress kissing in a shadowy corner in the distance, with two drunken props-makers making crude gestures near them. I had never seen the area empty before, and it was awkward, but interesting, once I got over the creepiness of it. I wondered where the rest of the cast was when no one came into the theater, and headed out into the main hall before the theater. There was a huge crowd surrounding what looked to be six men fighting, and the cheers and shouts were deafening. I quickly returned to the quiet backstage and sighed with relief and the dark calmness of it. There was no new additions to the amount of people in the room, and I looked around me before heading to the grand piano tucked into a corner. The fight looked like it still had quite awhile to go, so I figured I was safe as I sat down on the well-worn bench. I couldn't help but smile happily at the white and black keys. At my mother's house, there had been a beautiful piano that I would play every day. But I moved, and my father doesn't have a piano. So I haven't played for awhile, and I've bitterly missed the feel of the smooth keys against my skin. And with one final look toward the door, I began to play.

I always been gifted with piano. Learning flute and violin took quite some time for me, but piano I picked up right away. After I learned how to play, I began to create accompaniments and write my own songs for the instrument. And so, I began to sing Angel of Music while I played. And I played and played and played, it was wonderful and magical, in that nearly empty theater. "Bella."

I jumped about a foot into the air, but somehow managed to land back on the bench. Then, after I caught my breathe, I was able to look at who interrupted me. It was the composer himself! I looked away from the piano guiltily. "You dropped this," he laughed, and dropped my favorite green scarf unto the top of the piano. "Oh, thank you." I said, and let my hands glide over the keys longingly. "The fight is still going strong, it looks like it will continue for more time yet. Don't let me stop you from playing." I smiled gratefully and resumed to play my favorite song. But to my surprise,he stayed next to the piano bench and watched my fingers dance. Oh, he moved a bit farther away from me instead of being right next to my shoulder, but still, it was the closet I had been to him in a while. So, I felt compelled to show off a little, and sang to my song as I went on. During the breaks where I didn't sing, I turned back to him and looked at his expression. His eyes were closed and his face was turned up, and looked peaceful. Odd, I thought.

But the magical moment couldn't last long, and too soon the fight broke up and the theater was filled with many loud people. I jumped away from the piano and Edward slid into my place. Had he just been waiting to sit down, and not enjoying the music? I shook the thought away from my head and smiled my thanks, then was herded off to the center stage where Rosalie was impatiently tapping her delicate foot. I cast a curios look to the girl, and she haughtily whispered, "We are doing the duet." I nodded, and the accompaniment music began to play, courtesy of Edward, while the orchestra warmed up.

When I got home, my father was already sitting at the dinner table. This was unusual. "Father, you're home early." He nodded at my and ran his hands through his dark brown hair anxiously, which was never a good sign. I sat down at the table and nodded to the maid who was fluttering near the door. She had wanted to know if dinner was to be served early. It was, food always makes me and Charles feel much better. "What ever is the matter?" I finally asked. "Two things, bad and worse. Which you do want first, Bells?" I gasped and said, "Who has died?!" He gave a weak laugh at my theatrics, then said, "No one you knew." I looked down at the table and twisted my hands, and so Charles continued, "Worse news first, I presume?" After I nodded, he gravely said, "A man, Luc Chanier, was found just outside of Fourchette last night. Dead, by a vicious animal attack, we assume." My eyes widened in horror. I didn't know there was any blood thirsty animals near the sleepy little town. "We shall need to keep the far pastures extra safe!" I blurted out, thinking of dear Whimsy.

"Belle, only you would think of your horse over your own safety. But yes, I will be at work more often than not, to bring down the creature. I want you to not ride out far, at least until its caught, understand?" His voice was tired and sounded worried. "What, earlier you said you "think" Luc Chanier was killed by a beast. Why are you not certain? Is there a chance that you think he was...murdered?" Charles looked away and said, "Bella, its not a subject that I can talk to a lady about, I'm sorry. Here, this will distract you. The bad news; we will be hosting a party of the fifth of next month. Your mother forced, I mean ASKED me to. It will be fun." Charles's voice sounded terribly afraid and resigned at hosting said party, but I felt pity toward him and said, "Oh, I'm sure it will be fun...with dancing and lots of food..." Of course, dancing is never fun for me. He smiled gratefully and replied, "Wonderful! I'm glad you feel that way. Mme Delacrux, your instructor, will help with the planning. Don't forget, you have your first lesson tomorrow." I groan, then bit my lips to hold back complaints. But then dinner was served, so our conversation ceased and we concentrated on the delicious food, though I had nagging thoughts in the back of my head about the murdered man.

The next morning, I woke up to a dark gray sky. Thought the Fourchette sky is usually gray, it is a misty, light sort of gray. This sky was threatening and gloomy, with the promise of thunder and lighting and buckets of rain. Oddly enough, this brought a smile to my face. Marie then came in with my cup of chocolate, and gave me an odd look. "Does the weather please you?" She questioned, and I nodded. I do love storms. Oh no! I had just remembered that I had forgotten to search out Benjamen yesterday and tell him all about my fine friend. _I'll do it today._ I silently decided and got out of bed. I chose a form-fitting silvery blouse that opened at the throat and a black skirt to wear, and Marie helped me get dressed. I wrapped a a silk ribbon round my neck for a choker, and twisted my dark red curls into a high bun, leaving a few tendrils down against my face and neck. Lastly, I put some smoky powder on my lids and pinched my cheeks. "Is there someone you want to impress?" My maid asked in a very amused voice. I had a brief image of Edward in my mind, but shook my head and said, "No, I have a "Lady Lesson" today, and I don't walk to look like a barbarian. So it won't hurt to look nice, will it?" She smiled and gave a small laugh, then held open the door for me as I headed outside. The skies had yet to rain, and I got into my carriage easy enough. The air had that sort of yellow tint to it that it always gets before a big storm, and my silk shirt clung to me from all the electricity in the air. The carriage horses could feel the coming storm too, and danced around in their harnesses as the coachmen made sure my door was securely shut. When finally gave them the command to go, they charged off at a speedy gait, and I laughed delightedly as I bounced in the air from the bumps in the road.

After he got the horses in control, and made sure I was all right, the driver finally headed off the the opera house, and I saw the first few raindrops hit the road. I arrived at the theater, and the sky continued to hold back. When I walked unto the stage some while later( I stared at the sky for a bit), everyone was staring at me. I brought a hand up to my hair, it was still in place, and smoothed down my skirt. People still continued to stare at me, so I just shook my head curiously and headed over to the props department to talk with Michel, who was supposedly friends with Benjamen. Meg still hadn't arrived at the opera.

"Bella, you look amazing!" He gushed, and plucked a red rose from the potted bush in the corner and placed it above my ear. I should have reprimanded him at the forward gesture, but he had given me my favorite flower, so I stayed quiet, except to murmur, "Thank you." So that was why people kept on watching me. They thought I looked that good. "Hey, Michel. Are you good friends with a boy named Benjamen? He has glasses and dark hair?" He scowled and ran a hand through his fair hair, then muttered, "Really, Bella. You should not waste your time on him, there are many better suited men-" I interrupted him and gasped, "No, no! Do not tell the others, but my friend is interested in him. I should like it very much if you could tell him good things about her. Her name is Marie, she is tall and quite pretty, and very smart and kind. You might even know her?"

My words brought a smile to his face, for whatever reason, and he said, " Yes, I do. She is a nice girl. I shall put in a good word for her." I gave him a big smile and said my thanks, while he continued to gaze at me with a loving expression on his face. Not good, I thought, and headed toward the piano where the girls where chatting. "Bella! Over here! Or should I say Belle? That is what every one is calling you now." Meg's bright voice invited me into the crowd of girls, even though Lorraine was sending daggers at me with her light eyes. I chatted with the group until we were interrupted by a low voice.

"Excuse me, mademoiselles." I turned and saw Edward standing near the piano bench, which was blocked by three giggling girls. They all shrieked and gave him huge smiles, and when they moved, they all rubbed up against him in the most un-ladylike way. But its not like I could blame them, really. He was looking exceptionally handsome, with a jet black suit and snow white shirt that made his dark gold eyes shine. I was shocked that I didn't gasp at the mere sight of him. Then he turned from the silly ballet girls and looked at me. His eyes widened and he, too, stared. As shallow as it was, it made me feel proud to be beautiful at that moment. And I couldn't help but boldly stare back at him. Time seemed to stand still. Without me even meaning to, I drifted past the other girls so that I was closer to him, till we were about a foot and a half apart, separated by just the piano.

A huge crack of thunder made everyone jump, except me and him. Then there was a flash of lightning seen from the huge stained glass windows, and the sound of buckets of rain falling, and everyone ran to the windows to get a good look at the storm. I stayed where I was and we stared at each other. With the next ear-splitting thunder crack, he tore his eyes away from me and said, "This cannot happen." I took another step toward him and breathed, "What cannot happen?" It was like there was an invisible string that kept pulling me toward him. He looked up at me from the bench, and his expression was suddenly angry. "We will not be friends, Belle Dawier. Now just sing the damn song so you can warm up." I realized he was playing the tune I had tried out with, called; "Think of Me." I also noticed that he was breathing hard and that he ,for once, wasn't the picture of politeness. The enchanting moment had been broken, and I could not help but smile a little at how we had reacted afterwards. Edward had gotten angry and delved into music, and I had tried to get even closer to him. He looked up at me expectantly when I didn't start to sing, and I smiled coquettishly at his rigid position and shaking hands. As much as he tried to hide it, Edward Cullen knew that he and I had shared a moment. I bit my full bottom lip, and he gasped and sucked in a big breathe of air, then looked like he wished he hadn't. The air smelled fine to me. After another half minute of teasing him, I finally began to sing, "_Think of me, think of me fondly..."_

When I finished the song, Edward stormed away from the piano. The tempest was still raging, but the new managers had somehow gotten every one to rehearse. I watched the bronze-haired man leave the theater, and walk into the pouring rain and thunder and lightning. _Is he insane?_ I thought to myself, then was joined by Meg, who was stretching. "What was that all about?," she asked while pulling her leg up to her head with the help of a wooden bar attached to the wall. "I honestly don't have an idea." I replied, then saw Rosalie saunter on to the stage. "Duet time," she said to me, then returned to admiring herself in the polished reflection that the stage produced. I nodded wearily to her, then as I walked over to join her, turned and said to Meg, "If I have a party, will you come?" She gave an excited "Yes!" and I smiled to myself as the composer directed the orchestra to play the proper music.

The time flied until it was time for afternoon break. And that meant it was time for me to leave for the dreaded lady lessons. I tied the leather strap on my black cloak round my neck, and headed outside. The storm had let up, but the sky was still a very angry shade of grayish black, which meant that there was more to come. Everyone was already outside, marveling over the sky and the great puddles to entertain themselves during the free time. " Goodbye." I said to my friends, after I gave an edited version of why I was leaving early. My carriage was waiting in the road, and I handed my bag to the driver and gave one last look to my beloved opera house as I mounted a carriage step. I saw Edward talking with his sister, the pretty little ballet dancer who kept to herself. Alice, I believe her name is. He kept on glancing back at me, and I wondered where he went after I sang, "Think of Me. Then there was a huge burst of thunder, and the horses spooked forward. I went flying back into the road, since I had been getting into the carriage.

My very breathe was knocked out of me, and I lay dazed in the middle of the road. The carriage was jolted around by the horses, I saw, but it didn't really register to me. I heard the bystanders scream as lightning flashed in the sky, and the sheets of rain fell once again. It felt like I wasn't even part of the world. Then I heard hoof beats, and the sound of carriage wheels, and I attempted to see where the vehicle was coming from. There was more screams as I realized the out of control carriage was heading my way, and I tried to push myself up from the road. But my arms went out from under me, and I couldn't move. I could only think, _How ironic is it that I should die by the hooves of my favorite animal? _

Suddenly, I was swept into a pair of strong arms and pulled out of the way. I heard the crunch of wood as the passing carriage door was crushed in, and heard the driver yell his horses to "Whoa!" I looked up into my rescuers face and saw dark gold eyes staring into my own, and felt cold hands gently taking the crushed rose from beneath my hair. Then I fainted.


	5. Waking Up

When I came to, I realized three things. One, I was at my father's house, tucked into my warm bed. Two, that Edward Cullen had somehow ran down the steps leading to the opera and into the road, and managed to lift me up and out of harm's way. And three, that I had the most typical, feminine reaction to great excitement; fainting. Minutes later, Marie came in to check on me. I was still mentally chastising myself for the embarrassing incident, but I managed to compose myself enough to act normal when my sweet maid smiled to see me awake, then handed over a steaming cup of chocolate.

"Belle, I'm glad to see you up. I heard you had quite the spill." She smiled mischievously, and tucked my fluffy comforter tighter around my shoulder. I groaned miserably, then asked, "What time is it, Marie? Must I have the Lady Lesson today?" Her grayish-blue eyes continued to shine with amusement and she answered, " You are nearly run over by a carriage, yet you worry about your lady lessons. No, your father canceled them for today. You'll have your first lesson tomorrow." I sighed at her news, then sipped at my chocolate. I drained the mug, then brought a hand to my hair, it was still in a damp bun, though it was quite out of place by now. "Thank you, Mar. Could you prepare a hot bath for me?" She promptly left for my small-bathing room and leaned back against the puffy pillows. Strangely enough, my energy had completely left me, and I longed for sleep. Minutes went by, then Marie came into to my room to tell me my bath was ready. I somehow managed to pull myself out of bed and into my light pink bathing room, then sank into my tub.

I saw that kind, considerate Marie had placed my favorite novel on the little shelf next to my marble tub, and so I read while I soaked in the hot water. The one high window in the room was cracked open, and I was actually comforted by the sound of the soft rain. It seemed that the frantic thunderstorms earlier that day had finally subsided. After I finished my bath, I slowly got up from my tub and put a night gown on then wrapped my dressing gown round me. It was very frivolous, being white and trimmed with lace and sporting a very low neck-line. I sighed as I fastened the cord on the gown, and made a mental note to have a new dressing gown made as I let myself into my into my room. The creamy colors that made up my room were quite comforting on my eyes after seeing all the pink in my bathing-room, and I gratefully sank into bed and read some more of my novel. When I finished reading, I got up and blew out all of candles and sank into bed after taking off my dressing gown. My eyes began to close sleepily, and the sound of the soft rain and the feeling of the light, humid wind on my face was so reassuring. I heard the most ethereal voice crooning out a familiar sounding lullaby, and I felt myself drift off into sleep....Then my eyes snapped open.

I lept out of bed and ran to my window. It was open. A person must have been standing in my room, to be able to make me hear that lullaby. And I had felt the wet wind caress my face...I shivered and leaned out of the second-story window, but could only see the outline of the forest that framed my father's land. Clouds covered the night sky, and I pulled back into my room then closed and locked the window. For good measure, I tugged the filmy curtains over the window as well, then returned to my bed and hid under the covers. I was afraid, but intrigued at the mystery I was now faced with, and when I finally fell asleep that night, my head was filled with thoughts about the mysterious singer's godlike voice.

"Belle? Are you awake?" I heard a quiet voice and opened my eyes. My room was filled with the dim light of very early morning. I also noticed that my room was freezing cold, and almost seemed to be filled with mist. "Marie?" I called as I sat up in bed, and pulled my blankest over my shoulders and shivered. My door opened, and Marie scurried in, carrying a cup of my morning hot chocolate. She quickly put it into my icy hands, then frowned at the condition of my room. "Why is your room so cold?" She asked, and paced around the room until she stopped in front of my window. She threw the curtains aside, and revealed that my window was wide open. I gasped in surprise and nearly spilled my beverage. Marie firmly slammed the window shut and locked it, then left with the intentions of getting the necessary supplies to build a fire in my ice-cold room. Once she left, I hesitantly rose from my bed and approached my window. My thin nightgown did nothing to keep out the chill, but I ignored it and inspected my room. I could have sworn that I had closed the window the night before....I went over to the other window and found it closed and locked. On the white window sill was the most unusual token; a closed red rose tied with a black silk ribbon.

I picked up the flower and twirled the ribbon around in my hands in confusion. Perhaps it was a prank done by Marie? Marie entered silently, and placed her hand on my shoulder, scolding, "Really, Belle, to keep your window open when it is late autumn! I'm glad you didn't catch your death! I'll not tell the others just this once..." I jumped when she made contact, and hide the flower in the folds on the front of my night gown. She left my side and tended to the meager fire in my fireplace. I rushed over to my dresser and opened a drawer and stashed the flower in it. From Marie's sincere worry and honest eyes, I knew she hadn't had anything to do with the window or flower. And with that knowledge, the rose suddenly seemed like a forbidden gift, one I revered and wanted to stay a secret.

When I arrived at the opera house that morning, it was utter chaos. It was two days till the opening night of " La Mort de Lumière" and half of the ballerinas' costumes for Act 1 were mysteriously missing, Meg and the other girls were screaming on about "The Phantom of the Opera!!!" I finally had to pull my outgoing friend aside and ask about the notorious Phantom.

"M. Cullen had the opera house built over a young man's grave! It was a old grave, but still a grave, Belle! And now the ghost of the man haunts the opera, and steals and destroys! He sometimes even demands a salary! He was apparently a composer when he was alive, and he has actually had the audacity to change some of the opera's we've done!" She was very excited, and her blond curls bounced wildly as she shook her head at me. I did not believe in the "ghost" at all, but I decided to humor Meg. "How come I have not heard of this ghost before?"

Her brown eyes widened, and she looked around cautiously before answering, " It is bad luck to speak about him! I shouldn't have told you...but I had to! He is said to pray upon young, beautiful girls!" It was at that point I allowed myself to roll my eyes, and I thanked Meg for telling me before going off in search of Edward. I had much to discuss with him.

I couldn't find him. I had checked all around backstage, and everywhere else I knew in the opera house, including my small dressing room. The deluxe one was given to Rosalie, the diva. As I walked down a back hall that led to the stage, I heard the most beautiful music. It was coming from a darkened hall, one I had never explored before. After taking a look to see that no one was around me, I walked down the hall. It sounded like piano, but was so rich and deep, a sort of instrument I had never heard before. The melody of the song was dramatic; soft, sweet at one moment, then powerful the next. It reminded me of passion and glory and wistful beauty, and at times was almost to sweet almost to listen to. I followed the sound till I reached the end of the hall, a door labeled- "Chapel." I frowned at the English spelling of the word, then slowly pushed the door open. What would I find waiting for me?

It was small, cold and musty. But it was also beautiful. One entire wall was covered in stained glass, with small windows behind it. But the dreary sky was gray, like always, so no light shone behind the wall. The glass depicted scenes from the bible, the most vivid and passionate seemed to have been selected to be illustrated. The other three walls(the room was rectangular) were painted in soft sweet colors that effortlessly blended together. In the darkest corner of the room was a elegant wooden bench that had carvings in it, and small rot-iron stand had a drawing of the serene faces of Mary, Jesus and a cross. The stand had many lite candles on the rounded sections, and they cast a rosy glow onto the room. .The music echoed down from the high heavens, and I immediately felt peaceful and happy. I sat down by the stand, the music putting me into a relaxed trance. My rich brown skirt fanned out behind me as I lifted my face to better hear the magic. An ethereal voice soon joined the piano-like instrument, and I gave a slow gasp at the loveliness of the man's voice. For the unseen singer was a man, his voice was rich, sensuously powerful but also cool and gentle.

Then, still singing, he addressed me, "_You wish to sing, I could teach you. I'll make your heart soar, but I also need you. Don't betray my hidden ways and your life will be filled with song till the end of your days." _The simple rhyme had came straight from my childhood! The command of the Angel of Music when he sang to Little Lotte when she slept! Little Lotte had been the heroine of my childhood, and the Angel of Music had been the hero, my grandfather had told me the most wonderful tales about them both....It seemed impossible, that the Angel could actually exist, then pin-point me for his instruction? It was all surely nonsense, but I could not stop from replying, "Teach me! I will be your eager pupil!"

The music swelled around me, then came his reply, "_Sing to me, I have no use for merely talking."_ He had sang his answer, and even though his words had no sense of rhyming or beat, it still sounded like the most magical melody. I nodded and he began to sing scales with me. Then he instructed me on my dictation and posture, and sang some aria's from La Mort de Lumière. I still remained in a trance-like state throughout. Time lost it's importance, it felt like it had frozen when the Angel was with me. We had just finished the haunting _Amelie's Sorrows _when the Angel sang, "_You must go..." _I frantically shook my head at his words. The dreamlike state I had been in disappeared, and I was only left with the frantic urge have his voice near me. I desperately sang, "_Angel of Music, do not shun me! How I need your mercy!" _He chuckled softly in return, even his laugh was enchanting, then spoke. "I shall never leave you. _I am always near. Sing to me at night and I shall answer, let my song guide you!" _I slowly rose and started about the small chapel in wonder. "_Angel of Music, my guide and guardian!"_ As I had sang my last few words he had joined me, and I slowly felt his presence disappear. Mustering strength I didn't know I possessed, I managed to pull myself away from the chapel, my new haven of music.

"Belle, where in the world have you been hiding?!" Meg gasped then rushed towards me at a full run. Even in the dreamy state I was in, I managed to duck out of her way in the name of self-preservation. She reached me and grabbed my shoulder in her small hands. "I thought the Phantom had taken you! You've been gone for hours! Where were you?" She said that all in one excited whisper, and when she finished, took in a huge breath. I also took in a shuddering breath and blinked down at her slowly. My fantastic,magical time with the Angel seemed like a hallucination now that I was with Meg. But even if it was real, I would not tell her. _What do I say? _I finally had managed to focus on her anxious face, and she had began to pull me towards the crowded stage. I finally figured out the perfect response and said it breathlessly. "I was no where important. Did Gaston say anything to you this morning?" Gaston was one of the principle male dancers, a handsome boy who flirted with anyone that wore a skirt, and currently Meg's love interest.

Her attention was immediately diverted from me and to thoughts of her new crush. She had previously liked Michel, who had always seemed oblivious to her advances, and so moved on. "Yes, he did! We shared our lunch today! He was so charming!" She continued to chatter about him till we reached the stage, and I was quite relieved. I was also shocked to know that so much time had gone by, I had already missed lunch. We when arrived on stage, everyone seemed to be in a better mood, the costumes had been replaced. M. Reyer was mad at me for having ditched the rehearsals, for an hour after I returned, it was time for my first Lady Lesson.

As I slowly walked down the steps to the street where my carriage waited, I saw Edward. He was sitting on the marble step in front of me, his face moodily pointing towards the woods. "Edward!" I gasped, and started to trip down the steps in shock. He jumped up and caught me, but once my balance returned, he abruptly released me. The composer was looking as handsome as ever, but for once I was not distracted by him. I had more important things on my mind. "Monsieur, I believe you rescued me from a horrible death yesterday." He returned to sitting on the step, not even giving me the smallest of looks. So I continued, "For that I thank you...But I do not understand how you crossed from these steps to the other side of the road faster then I could blink." I wanted to sit next to him, but my heavy skirts would never permit that. So I continued to tower over him when he coldly looked up and hissed, "I had been standing near you, Mademoiselle Dawier. I merely had to reach over and pull you out of harm's way."

It was at this point, when we had returned to addressing each other with titles, that I indignantly gasped, "Don't attempt to deceive me! You were on these steps!" He glared at me, dark gold eyes piercing and hateful. "I was not. Pardon me, but you were delusional. You fainted right after I got you." I raised my head, and my light auburn curls fell against my white forehead. I let air go between my closed teeth, counted to ten, then answered, "Please, Monsieur. I just wish to know the truth." He briefly glanced at my face, his eyes no longer hateful but calculating. I stared back, a faint blush heating my cheeks. But he looked away, then mockingly said, "Not that I don't enjoy talking to you, Mlle Belle,but I believe you have somewhere to be?" He disdainfully gestured to a carriage, I realized it was my own. I had forgotten about my Lady Lessons. I would probably be late now. "Damn it all to Hell!" I muttered, not audible, and picked up my skirts. I began to trail down the stairs, but turned to look back at Edward just one more time. He had the weirdest smile upon his face, but I turned back to the road and was helped into my carriage. The whole way back to the mansion I fumed.

"Mlle Belle? Did you hear me?" Madame Leroux, my instructor, was the epitome of what a proper lady should be. She had pristine white skin, calculating blue eyes, and a huge diamond ring to represent her successful marriage to a minor lord. I'm sure she never thought she'd end up in dowdy Fourchette, teaching girls like me how to be proper. But you could never tell her true thoughts from the way she held herself. She repeated her question, and I realized I was supposed to answer. "Yes, I'm sorry, Madame. It sounds lovely." She had asked if I had wanted to go to a small fete held by her unmarried brother. She would be my chaperon, of course.

"Whatever shall we wear?" She giggled, an attempt to relate to me, I guess. Our initial meeting had basically decreed how things would go between us. She had seen my obvious disdain of the lessons, I had seen the interest and pride in her own. And so I acted meek, hopefully to help graduate sooner from these absurd lessons. We babbled for a bit more, she instructed me in my Spanish pronunciation and they way I addressed servants, then she finally left.

"Thank God!" I gasped to Marie once I made it to my room. She gave an amused smile at what she figured to be my antics, and I just rolled my eyes. Picking up my russet skirts, I waltzed over to my window. I sadly stared out to the barn which I had not visited in some time. Tonight I wouldn't be able to visit Whimsy either. The lessons extended to dinner, so I only had time to change. I went back to the center of my room and Marie helped me exchange my casual blouse for an ivory silk shirtwaist. I kept my skirt on, it was appropriate, but unwound my hair from the childish braids so it hung loose in all its curly red glory. Marie added a golden ribbon as a final touch, and I at last waltzed down the stairs, a false smile already on my face.

"Hello, angel bells. How was the lesson?" My father grinned at me amiably from over a decanter of some sort of liquor. I winced at the nickname from my childhood, but my smile remarkably still stayed in place. "The lesson went quite well." I answered and almost gracefully sat down at my usual chair. We began our meal, we always ate supper quite early compared to the other residents of France. Once we both had finished scarfing, Charles daintily wiped at his face, then said "Belle, I was thinking of having some friends of mine over in three days."

My eyes narrowed and I asked, "Well, it will be a Sunday. Don't we always have some of your friends over on that day?" He nodded slowly, then replied, "Yes. But it would be different. A party, I guess you could say." My face must have showed my shock. "I've been planning it for some time, belles. Mme Leroux and even your mother has taken part in the preparations. It is in your honor, a long awaited homecoming ball." I tried to retrieve my false smile, but it didn't want to come back. "Thank you, father." I managed to stutter. "Aw, I know you aren't overly fond of dancing, but I hoped that Mme Leroux would have helped. You'll have the prettiest dress, and your friends from the opera can come, if they wish. You shall be the toast of the evening." That brought forth a tiny, but still true smile to my face, and I honestly answered, "Thank you. I know that parties are not your specialty." We nodded at each other, chatted for a few moments more, then I retired to my room.

As soon as I entered my room, I shouted, "Marie, you horrible girl, why did you not warn me about this party?!" I stomped into the center of the room, and ripped the ribbon I was wearing as a necklace off my neck. The small gratefulness I had felt towards my father had vanished while I lashed out at my maid, whom I has assumed was a friend and ally. The tall girl came out from behind a corner once I had taken a breath from my screaming, and whispered, "I had thought you might actually enjoy the surprise. That boy you took fancy to might be there." I glared at her, fully knowing the frosty effect my gray-green eyes can give. "You idiot! This is more then just a party! The lady lessons, the letters my mother has been sending my father, now this! It means that I'm probably soon to be, or already on the market!" Marie gave me a questioning look then picked up the ribbon I had thrown to the floor. "What market?" She finally asked while I nearly ripped my expensive blouse off my shoulders.

"The marriage market." I hissed, and changed from my nice dinner clothing into a simple but warm shift and coat. "No!" Marie cried, realizing the true meaning of the party at last. "Yes." I answered sadly, my angering fading when I saw her sweet, shocked face. "Its inevitable, Marie. But there is still much time before anything should be set in stone. I'm sorry I was evil to you. I am going out to the stable, so be a dear and cover for me." Then I spirited out of my room and to the barn, not even tripping once.

The stable was silent, though not empty. I tried to dodge the employees of my father and ducked into Whimsy's clean stall. "Hello, old girl. Its been awhile since I've seen you." I whispered and threw my arms around her long, yet delicate neck. She turned her head and snuffed into my curls, her usual greeting. I whispered to her all my troubles, then told her of my almost forgotten joy at the arrival of the Angel of Music. Then I gave my mare some sugar and snuck back to my room, exhausted but still happy over my small rebellion of staying up late. I took the quickest bath in the history of time after Marie informed me that I stunk of horse, then slid into a nightgown then bed truly, I had had the most incredible of days.


	6. Events

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Three Days Later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was rather shocking that my ball had been kept a secret for so long. It almost amused me to see how relieved the servants were to be able to openly prepare the house for the party. As for me, I had lessons with Mme Leroux every day, which got rather old quite quickly, and selected flowers and other frivolous things for decorations. I was still allowed to go to the opera and rehearse, since the opening night of La Mort de Lumière  was in two days. I would arrive at the beautiful theater earlier in the morning to spend it with the marvelous voice of the Angel. My previous obsession with understanding Edward Cullen had diminished, as had my thoughts of friendships with the other performers. All that mattered to me was the Angel and our music.

On the day of my party I woke thinking of just my angelic maestro. I dreamily rose out of bed and ate, and obliviously dressed and went into my carriage. The ride to the opera was peaceful, the perfect atmosphere for day-dreaming. When we arrived I swept into the theater and practically ran to the chapel. My Angel warmly greeted me. "_Angel, how I've missed you!"_ I joyously sang. He gently laughed, a most musical sound, and replied, "_Only the night has separated us_." I stopped singing and seriously murmured, "But the night is long, and I am alone." There was utter silence, then a crush of instruments and mighty voices sounded. After a few moments of the deafening symphony, silence returned. Then the Angel gently whispered, " You are never alone, my angel. I am always there." My smile returned, and we sang together.

When our lesson finished, I slowly went to into the theater. Meg gave me a weird look, which had become her habit, then smiled. She probably remembered that my party was tonight, and that she was invited. All of the other dancers also gave me the funny looks, and I heard a few whisper things like, "Something is queer about that Dawier. Something not right..."

But they had never heard the majesty of the Angel of Music, and so I did not expect anyone to ever understand my rapturous joy. Rehearsals went well, and I sang so happily. But I was careful to restrain my voice. The Angel had said to hold back my power and deaden my pure tone, to save all the glory for opening night. Though I didn't really understand, I readily agreed to his demand. I would've given my life if the Angel had requested it. Right as I thought that, I saw M. Cullen chatting with Meg. That was enough to stir me out of the reverie, as beautiful and aloof Edward never willingly talked to the bubbly little dancer. But still I tried to evade them so I could quickly return back to the chapel, and to my master of song.

"Belle!," They both cried, and I stiffly turned away from the door. "Yes?" I answered, my feet still angled towards the escape. "Come and talk with us," Meg prettily simpered and gestured to come over. The handsome composer next to her smirked and mocking repeated her innocent gesture. I longingly glanced back to the door, then picked up my purple skirts and walked towards the two. "Yes?"I sweetly repeated.

Meg smiled then said, "Well, dear M. Cullen and I were talking about how we haven't seen you much lately, Belle. Whatever has been keeping you?" While she talked, the dancer twirled a golden curl round her little finger. I remained silent and turned to Edward. His beauty made me breathe a little harder, I had not seen him close up for three days. Then I coolly murmured, " Why how kind of you both. I have been round, of course." I smiled ever so sweetly, then turned back to the door. "I really must be going. I shall see you two at my party tonight." Then I breezed away, straight to the chapel. The Angel was waiting for me, and our voices joined.

"You will be beautiful," Marie said as she tightened my corset later that night. "I already am." I answered sadly. My euphoria from the Angel's voice had faded when I arrived back at the manor and had been whisked through various little preparations for the ball. Then the lengthy ordeal of my dressing had begun. " Of course, Mlle Dawier. But you shall be even more so when I am finished." I sighed my consent. Would I be meeting a potential spouse tonight?

"And you are done!" Marie squealed some time later, after I had been powered, curled, and sucked into a tight corset. "Thank you, sweet Marie."

"Well, don't you want to see yourself?" she asked. The whole while I had been dressing, I had been blindfolded. The gown was a complete secret, just like the rest of my appearance. "Yes. I would like to see." Marie gently untied the silk blindfold, and I blinked at the sudden candle light in my room. She led me to the full length mirror, and I stared.

I was dressed in a gown of deep purple silk, the color of rich wine. It had a tight bodice, which I already knew since breathing was rather hard, and flared out into a luxurious skirt and train. The short sleeves fell off my white shoulders, and were black lace twined with little strands of the purple silk. The back was low and elegant. Along the lower folds of the train were black silk roses, attached with tiny diamonds and pearls. My deep red hair was up-swept, and more tiny jewels were twisted into the thick curls. Two long strand of diamonds glittered in my ears, and my lids were covered with some smoky sort of powder. I turned back to Marie, who was holding two pairs of gloves in her hands; one set white and the other black.

"Rather scandalous for a debutante." I coyly murmured, then smiled to show I appreciated her efforts. I was gorgeous. "Yes, your father had me pick out the fabrics and style of the gown. I knew you'd like." With that in mind, I mischievously picked out the daring black gloves. Perhaps I would enjoy the night after all.


	7. The Music of the Night

The lively sounds of a tiny orchestra, the way the chandelier's light sparkled against my skin, the taste of the champagne, all were things I would never forget from that night.

When I had exited my room and began to descend the staircase, the musicians had begun to play a glorious tune, and the guests all clapped enthusiastically. All of their faces blurred into one set of admiring eyes, shocked mouths and flushed cheeks at the sight of me. I paused at the foot of the steps and smiled at the crowd. I had begun to recognize those standing closet to me. After a moment, my father appeared at my side and whispered, "Belle, you are truly beautiful. I am so proud of you for doing this, and I know your mother will be incredibly pleased."

He took my gloved arm and led the crowd to a his rarely used ballroom. There was another set of musicians seated in the corner, already playing a song familiar song. "Here is the lady of the night, my lovely daughter- Bellisima Dawier!" My father led me to the front of the room and toasted to me in front of the audience. Servers had just passed out crystal flutes of champagne, and everyone drank to me. The toasting over, servants recollected the empty glasses and the first brave couples began to dance. I walked over to a well-lit corner and watched them twirl around the floor.. I was not left alone long, many a curious girl and fawning young man visited me. The boys asked me to dance, and I politely refused them, promising to dance later in the night. I denied them for two reasons, one being that I dreaded to bring my clumsy self out and ruin the elegant facade I had been withholding, and the other being that I enjoyed watching others be so graceful.

"Belle! Belle, you look ravishing!" I heard Meg's high voice well before I saw her. The petite, beaming blond finally emerged from the twirling crowd. She was dressed in a gown of demure pink silk with white feathers trailing across the floor and adorning her hair. The innocent effect contained more then a little irony though, since her beaded neckline was rather low-cut and Meg's white breasts seemed to explode from the top of her gown. "Meg, you look more then a little ravishing yourself!" I whispered, and we shared a laugh.

"Is there someone who has caught your roving eye?" I asked, and she smiled mischievously in return. "Do tell!" I enthusiastically said, placing my gloved hand on her arm. "Oh, Belle, you'll hate me for it," the ballerina replied, biting her little lip and looking away. "Never would I hate you." I insisted and she looked up at me hopefully and said, " Oh, I am so glad to hear you say that! I-....I had thought we were growing distant, Belle." I gently tightened the hand I had resting on her arm and leaned in closer, whispering, "We are still confidantes, Meg. I have just been busy these last few days. Do not doubt my friendship." We smiled at each other, then Meg quickly glanced around the room.

"Alright, I must tell- I believe I am in love with Edward Cullen!" Her words seemed to burst out in one excited flow, and it felt like my heart froze. Edward Cullen! The boy who had so fascinated me when I first arrived....who I had obsessed over till the Angel granted me his presence...I felt so defensive after just hearing Meg say his name. He was not mine to own, but yet I felt as if he and I were one and the same. "Edward Cullen?" I repeated dumbly. The dancer nodded joyfully, lost in her love, and murmured, "He has been seeing me for the last couple of days at the opera. And, miracle of miracles, I have been able to actually talk with him and not just mumble nonsense!" I mustered a weak smile and told her I wished her the best of luck with him. Then, thank God, the son of one of my father's close friends appeared at my side and requested a dance. I accepted, and he led me to the center of the floor. We danced, and with his lead, I managed to not trip over my long skirt and train. Once our dance ended, I returned to my corner, which was now occupied by some gossipy debutantes I was not particularly fond of.

I daintily chatted with the girls for a bit, then stood back and let them do the talking. I'm sure my presence greatly annoyed them, since I was most likely their choice discussion topic. I was vastly amused to just show enough attention to let them know I was listening but that I didn't care to contribute to their weak conversation. A few moments into this torture, a hand gently tapped my bare shoulder. I turned and my heart nearly stopped beating with surprise.

"Bellisima? Could you be the girl from my childhood?" His voice was low and friendly, and his hand had drifted from my shoulder to clutch my hand. I managed to find my voice and answered, "If you are the boy by the sea, then I am the girl from your youth." His charming features broke out into an unrestrained grin and he said, "I never dreamed I would find you again!" I smiled in return, murmuring, "We used to ride on the shore every morning."

"And at night, we would huddle in the attic and tell dark stories of the north." he answered, and we both leaned in closer to each other. "Grandfather would tell the most beautiful stories....."

"I would tell myself that I wouldn't grow up, for I never wanted those days to end....But now we are together again!" And he brought my hand up to his lips gently, his hazel eyes never leaving mine. "Jacques," I murmured. I had not seen him since I was a girl, and things suddenly seemed much more intense. Staring into my eyes, he whispered, "Now that we are together again, I do not intend to lose you." I took a shallow breath and broke the eye contact. His serious demeanor suddenly vanished and he laughed, "Come and dance with me!" And so he pulled me to the center of the floor and we danced as if all the problems in the world didn't exist. The light, lovely music that we spun to ended, and the standing couples clapped politely for those who had danced. Jacques gallantly led me to a bright spot near the grand staircase. "Well, I cannot expect to keep the most beautiful creature here all to myself for the night. I shall seek you out again!" With that, he headed over to a group young gentlemen. I stared after him, completely in a daze. Slowly, I left the ballroom and went to a back room that was empty.

I walked over to a big window and let my gloved hands lean against the frame. The room, being rarely used and disliked by my father, only held a few dusty paintings and chairs . One lit candle let a meager amount of flickering light into the dim space. After I glanced about the room, I picked up my skirts and returned to the window. ` In the distance, I saw a flickering light. Every few moments, it would glow, sending out rays of jewel-toned colors. And it was beautiful. Of course, I had to know the source of the light. Quietly I left the room, heading out towards the servants' door in the kitchen. Thankfully most of the workers were also partying in their quarters. A few on-call workers curiously watched me exit the manor and walk out into the cold I used one gloved hand to hold onto my maroon silk skirts and the other I held out in front of me, as if to capture the light in the distance. The light always seemed to be just out of my reach. It captivated me with it's bright beauty.

Then the sound of haunting violins joined, and the strange duet between light and instruments seemed to reach a crescendo as it headed straight to the road away from the manor. I was in a state of agitated bliss. The music seemed to caress my very being, but the light remained just out of my grasp. Once the light went out to the road, I went to the stable. Peering over my shoulder, I saw the light patiently pause at the gate to the road. The one stable boy on duty followed my orders to saddle Whimsy, though he was very curios. He helped me onto the side-saddle, and the usual uncomfortableness of the seat was lost to my dazed, enthralled state. Once I was safely secured, I kicked Whimsy into a reckless canter and we charged down the road. The light also increased it's speed, and my mare followed the enchanting glow on her own accord. Since she was in control, my hands let loose of the reigns and raised towards it's glory of their own accord. The music continued to swirl around us in frenzied passion. Time was lost on me. After an amount of time that seemed like forever and yet nothing; Whimsy slowed then stopped.

I dismounted unto shaking legs, blinking in the sudden darkness. The light had left me. When my eyes had finally adjusted, I found myself on the steps of the Fourchette Opera. I gazed up at the building, with the only light coming from the clear night sky. Seeing the stars was a rare and glorious thing in Fourchette, due to the normally overcast skies. I turned back and found myself alone. Whimsy had also silently left me. I felt a stab of pain at my stead's stealthy abandonment. I was dazed and confused, and even briefly wondered why I was not at home at my party. "Hello? Is anyone out there?!"

In a short amount of time, I was terrified. Abandoned at the foot of an opera that resided in the middle of the woods at night, and dressed only in my ball finery. I tried calling out, only to hear my voice echo around me. I am ashamed to admit it, but tears filled my large eyes. "Please!" I tried one last time, my voice breaking pathetically.

"_Wandering child; so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance...."_ Abruptly my sniffles and tears ceased. The great voice of my Angel had called to me! I rose from the steps and hesitantly gazed around me. "Angel, have you come?" Was the bright light really the Angel guiding me to our meeting place? _"Too long you've wandered in sorrow, lost from my far-reaching gaze..." _And his ethereal voice lured me up the steps of the opera, through the grand front doors (which had somehow unlocked), and to my unused dressing room. My dressing room was dark and filled with silvery mist. I was frightened and yet excited. _"Wildly my mind beats against you, yet the soul obeys!"_ My voice was shaky with unrestrained emotion. The Angel powerfully called, "_Then look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside!" _ And so I turned, and there was a man in my full-length mirror! The Angel had appeared before me at last.

"_Angel of Music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory! Angel of Music, hide no longer! Come to me, strange Angel." _In a music-induced daze, I ecstatically sang. In the three days that I had known the Angel, he had always denied me sight of him. In a commanding tone, he echoed, _"Come to me...."_ My arms raised in front of me, and I slowly walked towards the misty mirror. As I got closer to it, he became more clear. He was dressed in black tails and a magnificent cloak, with a black fedora on his elegant head and black gloves on his long hands. His face was handsome and regal; with full lips, a roman nose and piercing silver eyes. Though perhaps the most striking bit of his appearance was the stark white porcelain mask that closely hugged the right side of his face. He held out his hand, and I hesitated. Then I decided, and placed my own similarly gloved hand into his. I magically stepped into my mirror, and the most powerful of chords seemed to trumpet my decision. The music that surrounded us was dizzying in its simple majesty. He led me down a hall that was glorious with golden candelabras and mist. His captivating eyes never left mine, and I was quite taken with him. Further beneath the opera house we walked, the music gaining in power and the halls around me growing darker. Occasionally I would turn my head to glance behind, and his hand would tighten around mine. When I felt my legs grow weary of walking so much in my heavy gown, we stopped at a small alcove. Out of the darkness stepped a truly magnificent Arabian stallion, who had a ebony coat and a proud head. Effortlessly, the Angel lifted me unto the horse's back, and he proceeded to lead me again.

I stared around in awe. The ceilings were towered high above me, and the candelabras had been replaced with life-sized statues of elegant human forms holding brightly lit candles. Soon he stopped the horse, I looked down to see that the mist had gotten much thicker. He helped me off that fine beast and picked me up. In my dazed state I didn't even protest. Then he gently placed me in a gondola, and I finally realized that the mist covered a lake. An underground lake beneath the Fourchette Opera! It truly was mysterious and magical, and I couldn't help gasping at the splendor. He seated me at the head of the elegant little boat, then stood in the middle, effortlessly rowing us forward. "Sing, my Angel!" His speaking voice was easily the most powerful, seductive sound I had ever heard. I leaned back to find myself resting against his legs. No words would fit that mystical moment, and with an out of feeling sense, I began to vocalize. My song was high and ethereal, and continued to sweep and rise as we progressed. Fully lit candelabras began to appear from the hazy water in front of us. Soon a cove of sorts also entered my vision. It was perfect. As I vocalized, my Angel commanded me to sing, his voice rich and all-powerful.

When we were just about to reach the golden cove, I sang my final note. I am a low soprano with a rich, sweet tone. That note I hit was so high I gave myself chills. The Angel gracefully got out of the boat and proudly gazed at me. I stared back at him, my expression surely giving away my dazed adoration. Tearing my eyes away from him, I looked about the glorious area, dare I call it a lair? In one corner was a giant shimmering organ covered with sheet music and candles. Everywhere was gold statues, large plush chairs and giant candelabras. The dark air seemed to glimmer. The high ceiling was supported with huge statues of mythed Gods and Goddesses. They were made of stone, and their faces portrayed the most life-like of expressions. Between the statues were little balconies with pieces of art hanging beneath them. Most were tapestries and paintings, and in a cluttered sort of harmony lay dozens of instruments. The vast space was surrounded by water, making an island of sorts, and truly was entirely splendid.

I brought my eyes back to him. He was still staring at me with the most intense expression. Silently he held out his hand, and I accepted, rising from my seat in the the boat and stepping into the magnificent lair. The train from my ballgown trailed behind me as he led me up a set of stairs. When we reached the top, I looked down to clearly see what used to be the murky waters of the lake. From the high view, the waters cleared and almost looked like a brilliant night sky! My eyes surely widened, as I leaned further on the balcony that separated me from the lower floor. Releasing my hand, he swiftly stepped down the stairs and went to a higher balcony before I could blink. My eyes went from the enchanting waters to the enchanting man. In a smooth, gentle voice he sang, "_Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation._.." With my eyes solely on him, he gracefully swept the fedora off his noble head. His hair was smoothed back, and was straight and black. In a highly sexual manner, he gripped the banister in front of him and continued, "_Darkness stirs and wakes imagination! Silently the senses abandon their defenses, helpless to resist the notes I write...For I compose the music of the night..." _

And I was lost in that music, it thrilled me with the seductive feel that only night can give. He slowly left the balcony, his cloak following behind. _"Slowly, gently, night unfurls it's splendor! Hear it, feel it, tremulous and tender..." _He gestured around his magnificent cave, then gracefully tore off his cloak and tossed it to the floor. Approaching me, he sang, "_Hearing is believing, music is deceiving.." _Then he came to me, and my hands reached out to him. Gently taking my hands, he seductively removed one glove, then the other, singing, "_Hard as lightning, soft as candlelight. Dare you trust the music of the night?" _ I stepped closer to him, and he twirled me around so my back rested against his strong chest. He brought one cool hand up to my face and continued, "_Close your eyes for your eyes will only tell the truth , and the truth isn't what you want to see!" _

He gently caressed my face and I leaned against him. He skin was cold to my touch. "_In the dark its easy to pretend that the truth is what it ought to be..." _Suddenly he spun me away from him so that our faces were just inches apart, with our hips touching. I was facing him from an angle, and he looked quite alluring. _"Softly, deftly, music shall caress you. Hear it, feel it, secretly posses you!" _My hand tentatively reached up and stroked the smooth mask. Continuing to seduce me, he sang, "_"Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind! In this darkness which you know you cannot fight; the darkness of the music of the night...." _

He released me and stepped away. My hands were left to caress the empty air. I reached out for him. Giving me a secret smile, he slowly went down the stairs. Then he sang, "_Close your eyes, start a journey through a strange new world. Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before. Close your eyes, let my music set you free! Only then can you belong to me...."_

My arms lowered to hold myself, and I obeyed, closing my eyes. I heard his words as if in a dream. The Angel's voice echoed around me in the cave, then I slowly opened my eyes. He stood at the foot of the stairs, gazing up at me. I went down to him, my crimson gown seeming to shimmer around me. When I reached him, he continued to walk further away. I followed blindly. "_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!" _He reached a golden trellis, and caressed it, wrapping his arms through the grates. In an almost unbearable sexy manner he sang, "_Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation!_" And I just nearly ran to him, placing my hands on his chest and staring up at his face. "_Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in...." _His arms came from the trellis to around my waist. One hand held me to him while the other skimmed over my neck. _"Listen to the power of the music that I write, the power of the music of the night!" _ My heart nearly stopped beating with his actions and words. He brought his head down and kissed my neck, the smooth porcelain of his mask cool against my hot skin. It proved to be too much, and I fainted away in his arms.


	8. Fate?

I woke up with a start and nearly jumped out of bed. Slowly, I came to my bearings. I was in a long, narrow bed. It was explicitly soft and covered with stacks of rich pillows. The upper half of my body was draped over the pillows, and my red ball gown was still intact, falling over the rest of the bed. The bed, with more consideration, was actually more a chaise lounge, there were no blankets or head board. I slowly lifted myself to my elbows and blinked into my dim surroundings. I could not see clearly into the distance, the only shapes that were visible was the glow of candles. My head ached, and my skin felt as it were on fire. I felt feverish and sleepy, despite having just awoken. When I felt calm enough to stand, I did so and slowly left what seemed to be a little alcove._ Where had the Angel gone? _  
Walking forward in a dazed manner, I felt my way through the dark corridors. When the Angel had sang to me, we had been in a bright golden cove surrounded by water and mist. Now, I was lost in a dark, murky corridor, completely alone. Had it been real? I felt myself began to panic. My heart race increased, soon my breath grew shallow and I felt faint. "Calm down, calm down!" I whispered to myself. Though it may sound strange, I often found it comfortable to repeat the facts of my life out loud to myself. "Well, it must have been real." I said slowly and stopped frantically feeling my way through the dark. I stood still and let my hands wander out in front of me. "I remember there was mist. Mist that swirled over a vast, glassy lake. There were candles everywhere, even floating in the water. In the lake there was a boat, no... a gondola....And in the gondola, there was a man." Even though it was pitch black, I closed my eyes and remembered the man. Even wearing a white mask, his beauty had rivaled Edward Cullen's. That alone was enough to stun me, but then he had sang. His voice was more then that of an Angel's, he sang of lust and with the feeling of a man. And now that divine being had vanished on me, left me alone in a vast black cavern.

To top that off, I realized I still wore my silk ballgown. The corset was digging into my ribs, and since I had been sleeping in it, my breasts were nearly falling out of the already low neckline. I brought my hand up to my hair, and noticed that my gloves were still on as well. My hair had fallen out of the elaborate twist and fell into wild mane around me. I could feel that my hair must be rather voluminous. Jewels still seemed to be tangled into the thick curls. My annoyance at my wardrobe distracted me from my previous panic at being deserted, so I quite calmly walked back to the chaise lounge. It was perhaps the brightest place in the whole lair, having a few candles set up next to the long chair. I sat down and waited for the Angel to return.

…....But I have never been one for waiting, so I began to pace and fiddle with my dress. When lots of time had surely gone by, I gave a frustrated growl and began to fidget with the ties on my lower back. My corset and heavy skirts felt as if they were tying me to the ground . Finally, I looked about me. I was truly alone. Carefully, I unfastened the latches on the back of my dress. I removed the sash from my outer skirt. I kicked off my shoes. Clumsily, I detached the "princess" bustle from the outer skirt. Then I stepped out from dress. I stood in the lair wearing my lacy black silk chemise, stockings and corset. I contemplated removing my corset, then decided it would be a futile effort, I couldn't reach the stays and it would be terribly hard to put back on. I felt rather racy in wearing just my underclothes, but decided to just ignore the feeling, and placed my discarded clothing over the end of the couch. Then I resumed my pacing, which was much easier without the cumbersome bustle and heavy skirts.

"Waiting for someone?" I must have jumped about five feet into the air. The velvety, seductive voice of the Angel had startled me. I turned and saw him step out a the shadows. He was exquisitely beautiful and proud. Then I remembered my state of undress, and fled to behind the sofa. Once there, I tried to clutch my outer garments over my body. My chemise and corset revealed every curve I had. I couldn't think of a thing to say, so I stared at him pitifully, my face heating up with a blush. "Why cover yourself? You are magnificent." he said, slowly walking towards the chaise lounge. He still wore the striking white mask. I wished to touch it. The meaning of his words sank in, and my blush deepened . I stepped out from behind the lounge, calling on my boldness. I usually was not a shy, simpering girl, so I wouldn't behave like one in front of this creature. Once I was in plain sight, I let my arms drop so he could see my full form. The Angel slowly smiled at my arrogant move. Then there was just silence as we stared at each other. Finally, I asked a question that had been burning me since I woke up. "Monsieur....why have you brought me here?"

His smile faded to a pleased smirk. He took a step closer to me, then in his perfect voice, asked, "Belle. What do you suppose I am?" I turned away from him in confusion. I immediately wanted to say he was the Angel of Music, but he was more then that. He also seemed to be a man, an impossibly beautiful, talented man who lived beneath the opera house. Narrowing my green eyes, I finally answered, "You...are some sort of man. A man who can sing like an Angel, conjure tricks for my mind....a lovely man, yes? An angel of music." He gave a low laugh. "You are honest." I nodded to his statement, my large curls bouncing in the air.

"You have not answered my question, Monsieur Angel." He laughed again, a throaty sound, then said, "Belle, I have brought you here for many reasons." I cocked my head, and gestured for him to go on. He didn't say a word, but walked towards me again. We were but a foot apart. I could smell him; an intoxicating delicious smell, like honey and wine. Drawing in a shaky breath, I whispered, "I only ask because I am curious...You only first sang to me three days ago..." He shook his elegant head and murmured, "Oh, but I have known you much longer then that." Then the Angel filled the space between us, putting his cold, gloved hands on my hips and pulling me to him. I nearly fell, drunk on his scent and voice. "You are light – your innocence, your voice, your curiosity, your beauty..." He leaned his head in closer, and my head fell back, my curls brushing against the nearly bare skin of my back. When he spoke again, his lips brushed against my neck. "Belle. We are destined to be together. Music is our tie, our covenant." He kissed my neck slowly, his hands still around me, pulling me closer to his cold, hard body. I felt faint. "This Music of the Night- it's our music. Once you have heard it, you can't escape it." I nodded with him, my dazed eyes closing. "You belong to me, and I to you." Again I nodded. I was dreaming, surely. "Confirm it, my love. Sing to me!" I managed to open my eyes and stare at him. He was so captivating in his power. I brought one hand up and stroked the smooth porcelain of the mask. In spite of my curious nature, I did not want to remove it. Then I carefully thought of my words.

"_In this darkness, music has set me free. Forever, we are chained together with only our music as the key." _When I sang, he closed his eyes. My voice seemed to bring him as much pleasure as his voice brought me. When my final note rang out, his bright eyes opened and stared into me own. Then one of his hands traced over my face, and he leaned in and kissed me. I had been kissed before, but it hadn't been like that. My few former kisses had been by spoiled rich boys who expected me to be flattered at their scandalous behavior. The Angel's kiss scorched me. His lips against my own was a great and terrible sort of beauty, he sealed our fates. I felt extreme passion, my arms went around him and I pressed myself even closer to his body. I was intoxicated. Yet, even in the glory of the moment, I felt a strange sense of ill-foreboding. In his kiss, he claimed me to him forever. I felt exhilaration but also a small bit of dread. I was no longer my own, I belonged to the Angel of Music. Somehow, while he passionately kissed me, he slipped a ring onto the fourth finger on my left hand. Then he broke away, still keeping his face near. My breathing was ragged, and I could feel the heat radiating off my skin. He was calm and collected. When he saw my eyes focus once more, he solemnly released me from his embrace and whispered, "You are mine."


	9. Returning

"I am yours." I answered quietly. He lifted my hand and I looked at the ring. It was gold inlaid with pearls. Somehow, the smooth white of the pearls caught the barely-there candlelight and shone. "Don't take it off. Ever," his smooth voice commanded. I mutely nodded. What had I gotten myself into? The man was glorious, but he was not the Angel of Music. I had been deceived, lured below the opera to be seduced by a masked musician. Distantly, I wondered if I would ever be returned to Fourchette and my father. And what of Edward, Marie, Jacques and Meg? Or Whimsy, my faithful mare? As if he sensed my deceitful thoughts, the Angel began to hum. My mind went blank at the sound. He walked over to the couch where I had littered the outer layers of my clothing. Smoothly, he picked up the dress and brought it to his face to inhale deeply.

"What do you smell?" I asked, for when he sniffed, the music stopped and coherency once again returned. "You," the Angel answered. I blushed. Why did he make me feel as bashful as a little girl? "What is my scent?" I weakly murmured. Still clutching the fabric, he thoughtfully replied, "You smell of summer days spent at the sea. A very intoxicating combination." I walked over to him and smelled the skirt. Then I brought my wrist up and daintily sniffed. "I don't smell any scents of the summer." I said in confusion.

"Ah, but my senses are...enhanced from experience. Trust me, you smell heavenly." He placed the dress on the couch then pulled me into his arms. Then he brought his head down and kissed my neck, inhaling as he did. "Heavenly..." he murmured, as if in a daze. I was lost, and his touches made me dizzy. Distantly, I felt angry. Why could he control me so easily? To keep my wits about, I decided to distract myself. "What should I call you?" I managed to stutter. He pulled his icy lips away from my skin and answered, "Whatever you wish to call me." Summoning strength I did not know I possessed, I wrenched myself from his hard arms. He let me go. "Haven't you a name?"

He gave a nearly condescending laugh and said, "Oh I have many names, my love. On second thought, you shall still call me "Angel." In some ways, I am still your Angel of Music, and I shall continue to teach you and be your...guardian." I nodded. "And now, my dear, I regret to say we must dress you again." Angel picked up the the skirt and approached me. "But why?" I said in horror at having to dawn the confining trap again after just having taken it off. "You shan't stay in Fourchette forever. We must leave soon, but not yet. The residents are compiling a search party for you, it is believed that you were kidnapped on the night of your homecoming ball. So I shall return you, and you will not reveal my existence or our plans. I am still creating the means of our escape so that we can live in...peace? -for eternity. Do you understand, my love?" I did not understand. He gave me time to collect my thoughts.

"You are letting me go back home?" I finally asked. He nodded, then stood behind me with the skirt. I wearily stepped into it. He began to fasten and tie the laces, his fingers lingering on my back. "And I shall stay at home until you devise a plan to...take me away...so that we can live together?" My speech was slow and broken. With a final tie, he finished dressing me. The heavy bustle added pounds to my frame. I turned around to face him. "Yes, Belle, that is it." I narrowed my eyes at him in confusion. "Why not just go to my father and propose?" I vaguely remembered how the idea of my ball had infuriated me because I thought it had been just to put me into the marriage market. Now I was suggesting for a man to propose to my father. He laughed and drew me back to the present.

"Belle, I am not an average man. And our love defies the rules of society. I will not bend it to conform to the needs of others. There's only you and I and that is all that matters." His talk was daring but frightening. I did not want to be separated from the other people I loved. "When you are reunited with your father; you mustn't reveal my location." I nodded my consent, then asked, "What should I say, Angel?" He took my hand and led me through the dark halls. I could tell he was thinking. We arrived back at the main grotto-like room and he sat down at his organ. Listlessly, he tapped out a sweet song, obviously still deliberating. "Say whatever you wish. Everything I have thought of would not sound right coming from your mouth." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. His advice was not helpful in the least. It was still hard for me to feel so seduced, but yet alive, around a person whom I had formerly believed to be a mystical being. At times, he still felt much more then human. Gracefully, Angel rose from the bench and was at my side in an instant. "How did you reach me so fast?" I asked in wonder. He smirked and said, "I walked." I shook my head. He reached up and began smoothing my hair. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"Your hair is rather...mussed. I don't want to return you to your father looking wild." I shook my head again. Unless he had a large comb and rosewater in his hands, my huge curls would not be tamed.

"There," he said, sounding rather pleased. I walked over to a mirror in the corner. My dark red hair was still rather voluminous, but it wasn't as tangled. A black silk ribbon tied the top back, and some of the pearls and diamonds from the ball were still intact.

"I've decided. Besides being a brilliant musician, you are also a master hairdresser." I joked. He smiled, but his expression was guarded. "I must take you back now." I extended my hand towards him so he could lead me back. To my surprise, he took my hand, then took me up into his arms. I was embarrassed and a little angered. "Put me down this instant!" I cried. "No, love. Please, just close your eyes. It will be less frightening that way, and we must move fast. Under another circumstance, I would not carry you against your will." He began to run. He was moving so fast I could hardly see. Tears began to pool in my eyes from the wind his running created. It was not human. I obeyed him and shut my eyes. Perhaps he was actually an Angel, for no man could run that fast. "Why must we make hast?" I gasped. I was actually beginning to enjoy the speed. "Your father's search party will leave in seven minutes. I want you home before they leave the property." I closed my mouth. No logical argument would work, for if his lair was underneath the opera house, and the opera house was miles away from my estate, then obviously, we would not make it in time.

And yet, before I was ready for his exhilarating run to finish, we arrived at the woods around my father's lands. Slowly and carefully, Angel put me down to the ground. His hands still clutched my own shaking arms. I was still in the ballgown, though it was sufficiently tattered. I'm sure that even after Angel's arranging, that my hair was a mess too. Once I stopped quivering, oh it was embarrassing, he turned away from me to face the surrounding trees. "Don't go!" I cried in alarm. He faced me again with a smile on his dashing features. The mask remained on the right side of his perfect face, stark white and shining. I reached out and touched his smooth cheek. Flawless. Was he even real, or just a fantasy created by my dull life? He breathed into my palm. Oh, he was real. Angel gently leaned forward and kissed my lips. "Don't go," I faintly repeated.

He tapped my neck with one cold finger. "I must." Then he pulled away, murmured, "Soon, my love." and vanished. I was still leaning forward into the empty air, already wanting for his company. I glanced around for him a few more times, then began the long walk up to my father's manor. It would take me hours. To make things even more lovely, I had no clue what to say when I arrived at my home.


	10. Brilliant Realization

Luckily, fate seemed to be in my favor. Not a few minutes after I began walking, a wagon raced by. No doubt it was my search party. The wagon driver saw me walking on the side of the main road and pulled his reluctant horses to a stop. They slid in the mud created from the constant drizzle that surrounded Fourchette. The rain was light and soft, so I was not immediately soaked to the bone. Once the driver was close enough, I realized it was Jacques. He nearly fell out of the seat and ran to me, sliding in the mud in his haste. "Belle! Belle!" he shouted, and when he reached me, he grabbed me into his arms. It felt wrong, but I did not push away. "I can't believe your back! I was so worried. As a matter of fact, I was just about to go on a search for you." He still held me.

"Why did you need a wagon to search for me?" I asked, pushing myself free of his tight embrace to glance at his face. He blushed but did not turn away, as if he wanted to drink in my features. "In case I found you and you were injured, that's why. I'm so glad your here and safe." He led me to the wagon and lifted me into the seat, as if I were a doll. Once I was safely nestled, he jumped in and clucked to the horses and we were off.

I could tell he was very curious to ask me questions. I had no answers to give him, so I was glad his gentlemanly up-bringing stopped him from voicing his curiosity. We rode in silence. I shivered as we sped along. The light rain was beginning to dampen my skirts and hair so they clung to my chilled skin. It seemed to be around midday, since the hint of the sun shone through the dull gray sky. We soon arrived at the entrance of the mansion foregrounds. There was a crowd waiting there. They cheered with relief when Jacques pulled the wagon to a stop in front of the great manor doors. Gallantly, Jacques hurried down then helped me out. I'm sure I looked frightful, dressed in a dirty ballgown. My father pushed through the spectators and crushed me into his chest.

"Bella!" he sighed with relief. In his grateful state, he reverted back to my childhood nickname. I didn't mind. To my surprise, I found that I had missed Charles more then I realized. "Hello, father." I murmured into his shoulder. The crowd was bustling with excited chatter and cheers. Charles regretfully released me and turned to the assorted group of people. "My good people, thank you for coming out to my home. Thankfully, it appears that this search party needn't be assembled, since dear Bellisima has returned to us!"

My father had never been a good public speaker, but in joy he seemed to be another man; laughing and charismatic. "Belle, we must get you inside!" he said maternally once he registered that I was still dressed in a ballgown. The crowd parted for us to walk through. It seemed that the whole town was there. I saw Mme Giry with Meg, who beaming at me. I gave a little wave. I also glimpsed Edward Cullen glaring at the crowd. He looked as icily handsome as ever. Charles continued to talk as he lead me into the manor. I glanced back once to catch a final sight of Jacques, who was charismatically directing the crowds of people. I never gave him my thanks for returning me home.

How good it felt to be back in my room. There was a small fire waiting to greet me once I walked into the reassuring space.

"Ah!" I heard, followed by more excited shrieks. I turned to see Marie approach from the dim corner. "Marie!" I happily sighed and unashamedly hugged my little maid. We both cried our greetings, then Marie noticed the state of my appearance. She quickly helped me out of the burdensome and much soiled ballgown, and into a comfortable nightgown. I slid into my fluffy bed. I'm not sure why I felt exhausted, but my bed had never felt so reassuring. Marie hurried off to fetch me a cup of spiked hot chocolate, which was my favorite drink. I leaned back, and realized that I had truly come to like Fourchette. The constant rain had become the tempo to my life, and the people who lived in the tiny town shaped my happiness. While Angel had taken over my mind, Fourchette had gained a position in my heart. It was very upsetting to think about.

"Mademoiselle!" I looked up to see angry eyes. My breath caught in my throat. Why was he so beautiful? "Yes, monsieur Cullen? I thought we were on a first name basis." It had only been a day since Angel had returned me, but tonight was the debut of La Mort de Lumière and there was no way that I would miss it.

"No, I'm afraid we're not." the aloof composer answered. Sometimes I want to slap him. Then I want to ravish him. Dear Lord, that thought caused me to blush with shame. What about my Angel? Being without him makes his presence seem like a dream, like he wasn't real. And what of Jacques? There are simply too many wonderful, beautiful men in my life.

"Mademoiselle Dawier?" I realized a few moments had gone by while I had been dreamily thinking. Quickly I made up a saucy reply. "I'm quite offended, Edward. I felt we were closer! You are such a divine composer, after all. I expect you to call me Belle, and I shan't respond to Mademoiselle again." My mind flashed back to a day when a raging tempest had taken to the skies, and he and I had shared breathless moment of passion. "As you wish, Belle." he growled. God, what a marvelous voice he has. I smiled softly, then left for my dressing room. My costume was pretty, but Rosalie was definitely going to upstage me. I was quite content with my silky blue eighteenth-century style gown though, and happily let the costume mistresses arrange my powdered wig. Once they decreed me as ready for the stage, I vainly preened in front of the looking glass. The baby blue of the silk did wonders for my chalky skin (they had powdered it as well) and my silvery green eyes really contrasted from it. I had already warmed up, but I did a few more vocal exercises to stay prepared. Then I went to wait at my entrance on the left of the stage. I wasn't nervous in any way. No, in fact, I was quite ready for Fourchette's humble upper class society to see me where I _truly_ belonged. I was born to sing on this vast, glittering stage. I saw Edward approach me. The curtain was due to rise soon, the haunting overture had just begun. "Shouldn't you be out there?" I asked.

"Yes," he admitted. "I...I wanted to ask you something. I know you were...erhm." he awkwardly paused, then finished, "abducted. Please, for my peace of mind, tell me this – did the man wear a mask?"

"What?" I gasped. Edward looked seriously into my eyes. "Why do you ask?" He only continued to quietly stare at me, his eyes searching and dark. "He was...But I can't talk of this now! Edward, what is the meaning of this?" I reached out and grabbed his porcelain hand. Surprisingly, he let me keep it clutched between my own gloved fingers. Even through the lace and silk of my costume gloves I could feel how cold he was. "Meet me during the Entr'acte. It's very important. Promise me, Belle."

I was overwhelmed. Only a few hours before, he had been his usual cold and distant self. Now he allowed me to touch him, and he desperately wanted to talk to me. My pride wanted me to reject him, but my obsessive curiosity over Angel, and over Edward himself got the best of me. "I promise," I breathed. Edward offered a small smile, then elegantly pulled his hand from mine. Instead of being hurtful, though, he picked up my discarded hand and placed a cool kiss over it. My breath caught in my throat. Then he was magically away from me. Edward turned back and whispered, "Make me proud tonight." Then he was gone and I was left waiting. A few more moments until I was upon the center stage, singing and glowing in the candlelight. A few more minutes until my life was drastically changed.

I sang like my life had depended on it. The notes poured out of my as powerful as the summer rain and my contained a clarity I had never known. I was lost in the choreography, the acting, but most of all – the music. I triumphantly basked in the stares from the gawking audience. The Entr'acte came too soon. While I was terribly excited for my death scene, I wanted the night to last forever. After the last notes rang out, I left the stage and hurried to my cramped dressing room. Edward would seek me out, and I had to get changed into my most elaborate costume. Quickly my seamstress/ helper or what not unfastened my gown and I slipped into my dressing gown. My wig was re-powdered while I sipped some cool water. My helper began to chat with me but was interrupted with an impatient knock upon the door. "Come in!" I chirped. I was a performer after all, and performers were always seen in their dressing gowns! Even so, my training as a society girl couldn't let my blush go unnoticed. Edward strode into the small space, tossed a small bouquet onto my dressing table, then shot a poignant look to my helper. I really must find out her name...Stammering out a reply, the poor homely woman quickly cast a longing look at Edward then left us alone. Did she think he was my lover? Imagine that...

"The opera is going wonderfully, don't you think?" I dreamily murmured and rose from my chair. Edward impatiently nodded then looked at me. I recalled the last time I had his complete attention, and couldn't help but shiver with a scandalized delight. Seductively, I stretched and let the lace of my dressing gown play over my body. He continued to watch me. Giving a pleased smile, I whispered, "What do you know of the masked man?" Edward immediately broke from his trance and stiffened.

"Tell me what you know first," he briskly replied. I gave a small laugh, and my play at temptress fell away. "Edward, can't you ever resist being rude?" I playfully asked. He turned his head away from me and I could see the tense muscles in his neck. The sight of such finely shaped tendons reminded me of when he rescued me during that horrible rainstorm. It had been sheer strength and speed that had saved my life...Inhuman strength... A sudden realization hit me.

"You're like_ him!"_ I gasped. Edward immediately spun around to face me. "What?" he barked. My thoughts were tangled and slow, but were managing to piece themselves together. Quickly, I strode over to him and brought my hand up to his face. I let my fingers trail over his features. He didn't seem to breath. "The cold skin..." I stepped closer to him and inhaled the heady scent. "The enchanting smell..." Edward closed his eyes as if he were in pain. "Belle," he rasped and halfheartedly tried to turn away from me. "The intoxicating voice..." I whispered. I craned my head up to his. Our lips were close enough to brush against each other as I murmured, "The seductive aura..." Edward suddenly came to life, and flew past me. He was on the other side of the room before I could blink. His action, which normally would have frustrated me and confused me in equal parts, merely made me laugh. "The speed! Edward Cullen, you and the masked man are the same sort of creature."


End file.
